


Casualty of Love

by exouniversity



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bullying, EXOUNI16, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Release of sex tape without consent, Self-Harm, Smut, harrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8172074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exouniversity/pseuds/exouniversity
Summary: When a messy breakup somehow becomes the most traumatic period of Jongin’s life, all Chanyeol wants is to help his beautiful friend heal, and show him that not all love has to hurt.Written by whisper-lucifer (LJ)





	

**Prompt Number:** 124

 **Title** : Casualty of Love

 **Pairing** : Chanyeol/Kai

 **Summary** : When a messy breakup somehow becomes the most traumatic period of Jongin’s life, all Chanyeol wants is to help his beautiful friend heal, and show him that not all love has to hurt.

 **Rating** : NC-17

 **Warnings** : Angst, Bullying, Fluff, Harassment, Self-harm, Smut, Release of sex tape without consent + mentions of blood.

 **Word Count** : 33k+

 **Author Note** : This is my very first ChanKai fic and as unlucky as I am I was hit with a bout of writer’s block right when I could have done without it. I’ve worked hard though, so I hope that you don’t find the story too lacking, and that at least the prompter is pleased with the end result. I apologise in advance for any errors, and thanks a million times over to the Mods for being so patient and understanding even though I’m a complete nightmare, and for putting this fest together in the first place!

 

** Casualty of Love. **

**_Kim Jongin is a good student, with a bright future predicted for him when he leaves college. His life isn’t perfect, for perfection is something that doesn't exist, but Jongin has a reasonably supportive family, an amazing best friend who has stood by his side through thick and thin since they were kids and a boyfriend whom he has been happily in love with for near to three years. But the same way a tornado can rip through a sleeping town without warning leaving nothing but a trail of destruction in its wake by sunrise, Jongin’s relationship with his boyfriend crumbles seemingly overnight, tearing him apart and leaving him wading through the quicksand of a messy breakup with the pieces of his shattered heart gripped tightly within his hands and held high above his head. If that isn’t bad enough, Jongin discovers in the worst way possible that things that happen in the darkness should never come to light, when intimate images of him and his now ex-boyfriend somehow end up spread around campus like a highly contagious disease, forcing him into an endless cycle of shame, betrayal and bullying unlike anything he’s ever had to endure before. Humiliated, frightened and lost, Jongin turns to the blade of a razor for comfort in a desperate attempt to feel some kind of release until hurting himself becomes his only solace. Though he knows he’s walking the path of self-destruction, Jongin can’t seem to stop when his family are disgusted by him after they too are sent the footage gone viral and his grades have dropped to an all time low. All he has left is Park Chanyeol, his best friend, his rock, and his safest place to hide that doesn't end with him crying and covered in blood. But there’s something different about him lately, and Jongin knows he’s hiding something of his own- a secret that could either destroy their friendship, or help it blossom into that much more. But before the rainbow there is always rain, and Jongin must find a way to win the fight against his own demons, or else be consumed by them completely. There are always casualties in war…but that doesn't mean Jongin has to become one of them._ **

 

**~*~**

 

** Part One: Demolition. **

*****

**_Dear Chanyeol, I can’t believe I’m sitting here writing this, I don’t really even know what it is I want to say. My mind is so full that I can’t focus on any one thing, but I hope that you can understand this, the way you’ve always found a way to understand and accept everything else about me._ **

The words scrawled neatly – if not a little tear stained – across a pretty piece of lavender paper with delicate purple flowers stencilled onto the bottom corner, (folded neatly and left on Chanyeol’s bedside table) swirled around Jongin’s head as he left the steam filled bathroom fresh from the shower, having hoped that the hot water would somehow clear his head- change his mind.

 

It hadn’t.

 

Jongin was alone in Chanyeol’s apartment, for the first time since he’d temporarily moved in with his best friend after his own dorm room got completely trashed. He hadn’t felt safe there anymore, couldn't stand the shit those people – some of whom had been his friends - were putting him through every single day for months. He’d not even been able to turn to his parents for support, because they’d kicked him out too after being shamed by him.

 

Chanyeol had hated leaving him earlier, worried that he was still too vulnerable, too broken open to be left alone with nothing but his thoughts for company, but Jongin had insisted that he go to class; it was no use both of them flunking out. Besides, it was only a few hours. He could manage by himself for a few hours, right?

 

Wrong.

**_I honestly don't know what I would have done without you Chanyeol. These last few months have been nothing short of hell, and you’ve been there for me so much more than I could ever have asked you to be. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty as my best friend, and for that I will always be grateful._ **

Since the bullying started, since his world had been torn completely in two, his best friend had been the only real support Jongin had had. When everybody else had turned away, too disgusted to even look at him, Chanyeol had taken his hand and pulled him to his feet, away from the gutter where what seemed to be the entire student body had left him to rot, alone and unwanted.

 

Without really knowing what compelled him, Jongin ended up in Chanyeol’s bedroom, glancing briefly at the letter waiting for his best friend before turning to the mirrored closet door, ashamed of his reflection but at the same time unable to look away, eyes roaming the almost nude form of his body as he stepped closer to the glass.

 

The world he was now forced to live in was too much to deal with, difficult and violent, and Jongin felt his body - his heart and soul – no longer belonged. Perhaps he never really had, he thought, wondering for the thousandth time what it was that he’d done that was so wrong that he deserved this.

 

“He’s not even attractive in the first place.” Jongin mumbled to his reflection, repeated the words aloud that had been hurled at him so many times now it caused him physical pain.

 

“Look how dark his skin is.” He whispered, turning away briefly to search the back of one of Chanyeol’s drawers until he retrieved the ivory face powder and large brush that his best friend had confiscated weeks ago in an effort to show Jongin that he didn't need to hide who he truly was.

 

**_Over and over again you tell me that I’m fine just the way I am. That I don't need to hide from my reflection, and I’ve tried so hard to believe that Chanyeol, to see myself the way you do. But I think the only way for me to not be ashamed of what I see when I look in the mirror, is if I no longer have a reflection. Does that sound weird to you?_ **

Ignoring the fact that he’d just had a shower, Jongin set about applying the powder to his face, neck, even down his collarbones- anything to be seen as something other than what he’d become, “What a whore though, begging for it like a desperate slut and then showing it to the whole world.”

 

Poison came in many forms, Jongin knew that now, and their words had been like an arrow dipped in scorpion venom and shot straight into his already splintering heart.

 

Why would anyone want- “Why would anyone want you in the first place Jongin?” he asked his reflection, paler now, forced smile fixed in place.

 

**_I can’t do this anymore Chanyeol, I can’t. All I can think about every day is what he did to me; all I can hear is the voice that broke my heart mixing with the vile things that people who used to be my friends say to me. Even when you’re with me, after what I did to you, too, somewhere at the back of my mind is that feeling that reminds me just how worthless I really am. I can’t even say that it’s a nightmare, Chanyeol, because I’m already awake. It’s too painful, and I’m not strong enough. I wish I was- but I’m not. I’m not strong…I’m not anything anymore._ **

Discarding his towel, Jongin spent a few moments absently scratching at the scabs and scars that adorned his thighs, his hips, and his stomach all the way to his navel; anywhere he could slice with a razorblade (paperclip, scissors, nail file) and then hide it. Sometimes, he struggled to remember exactly when it was that tears on his face had become blood on his thighs, but he figured it was somewhere between the decimation of his heart and the first punch to his face.

 

It wasn't as though it really mattered, anyway. Not anymore. After today, nothing would matter ever again. Pulling on the nearest loose shirt and briefs belonging to Chanyeol, finding more comfort than he expected in the familiar smell still clinging to the well worn fibres; Jongin only wished it could somehow be enough.

 

Enough to change his mind- save his life.

 

**_I’m so sorry Chanyeol. Sorry for everything. I wish I could have been a better friend (better everything) to you, a stronger person. But that was always you, not me- I’ve never been anything but weak. All I want now is for the pain to stop, can you understand? I’m tired, so tired I can’t even remember what it was like to feel anything other than exhausted. I just want to sleep. Sleep forever._ **

Eventually, Jongin dragged himself back to the spare bedroom that his best friend had said to call his own, crawling beneath the sheets without bothering to dry his hair first; it wouldn't matter where he was going.

 

Sliding a hand beneath the pillow with tears on his face, unless streams of salt that streaked through his makeup to reveal fragments of the person he used to be, Jongin retrieved the secret that had been hidden there since he’d managed to convince Chanyeol to go to classes, that he would be fine by himself for a few hours and would cook dinner for him or something to keep busy; the strong sleeping pills that were supposed to help him rest without nightmares, and the razorblade that, after today, he would no longer need to turn to for comfort and release.

 

**_Please forgive me, but I don’t know what else to do other than say goodbye to you, Chanyeol._ **

**_I love you, and goodbye._ **

**_Jongin x_ **

****

*****

 

Climbing the stairs to Taemin’s fifth floor apartment because the elevator was out of service (again) Jongin felt the butterflies that had been fluttering around his stomach on and off all day take flight yet again, only this time it was so intense he wondered if butterflies could somehow metamorphose into bats; either that or he had been reading too many science fiction novels again.

 

Jongin was excited, it was his and Taemin’s third anniversary, and his boyfriend had told him that he had something special planned for this year. It made him curious, because – though he hadn’t breathed a word of it to anybody – Jongin was hoping that the _something special_ Taemin had planned for tonight would lead to a conversation the brunette had been wanting to have for a while. Jongin wanted to take the next serious step in their relationship; moving in together. After three years together, he saw no reason why they shouldn't.

 

It was time, or at least he hoped it was.

 

“Everything okay Taem?” Jongin asked when he let himself into the apartment after finding the door unlocked and walked straight through to Taemin’s bedroom to see his lavender blonde lover flitting around, tidying away random things that he didn't recognise and all but throwing them into his closet before quickly switching off the computer set up in the corner.

 

“Fine, fine.” Taemin laughed, “You’re a little early- I was hoping to have everything set up by the time you got here.”

 

Jongin smiled when his boyfriend kissed him hello before he could say anything, “Happy anniversary, baby.” Taemin whispered against his lips, “Now close your eyes, and no peeking until I say so.”

 

“Okay.” Jongin chuckled, closing his eyes and pressing his hands over them to keep him from sneaking a look at whatever his boyfriend was doing; it made him feel like a little kid, somehow.

 

“Can I look yet?” he asked, intrigued by the noises he could hear around the room as he stood there; rustling packets, light switches being turned on and off and something that sounded like- ice maybe?

 

“Just one more minute-“ Taemin said, tone light and teasing, “Okay, _now_ you can look.”

 

Opening his eyes and allowing them a moment to adjust to the suddenly different lighting in the room, Jongin found himself so moved there were actual tears in his eyes. There were pretty red and white coloured flower petals scattered over the bedspread and various surfaces – where he’d pulled them from, Jongin had no idea – candles flickering merrily on the dresser and chest of drawers, fairy lights strung around the metal bedframe and even a couple of deep red scarves covering the lamps that resided on each bedside table.

 

It was a beautiful scene to behold, especially because somebody who - as a rule - wasn’t big on grand romantic gestures had created it; Jongin loved it. There were neatly displayed bowls and plates of what looked like picnic style food; pancakes, egg rolls, kimbap, fried chicken (his favourite), potato chips, salad, fruit and yoghurt and a delicious looking chocolate cake. The whole thing was rounded off with the bottle of white wine sat cooling in a bucket of ice on the bedside table.

 

“I was going to cook you a impressive meal but-“ Taemin started, looking a little sheepish, “the kitchen is a mess because I’ve been too busy with classes to keep on top of it and well, you know I’m no chef so…this is it, it’s edible though, I promise.”

 

Jongin smiled, crossing the room quickly and bending to kiss his boyfriend who was perched on the edge of the bed, “It’s perfect Taemin, thank you.”

 

“Well in that case, help yourself.” Taemin laughed, pouring two glasses of wine and handing one to Jongin once he’d gotten himself comfortable on the other side of the bed.

 

Jongin grabbed a plate; “You don't need to tell me twice.”

 

Conversation was light, easy, and the two of them talked about anything and everything whilst Jongin ate his way through a good amount of the food Taemin had prepared- with his boyfriend’s help, of course, “I can’t believe you did all this Taemin,” the brunette praised, “it’s wonderful, thank you.”

 

“Anytime baby,” Taemin smiled, “But it would appear your glass is empty,” he said, reaching for the bottle of wine, “And we can’t have that.”

 

Jongin laughed, the warmth of the alcohol already spreading through his system, “No, we can’t,” he agreed, “We’re celebrating after all.”

 

“Exactly.” Taemin said, refilling first Jongin’s glass and then his own, before holding it up between them, “To us.”

 

Jongin nodded, feeling emotional again, “To us.” He said, clinking his glass against Taemin’s.

 

Several glasses later, and Jongin was completely mellow, smiling absently as he watched Taemin clear away what was left of their food before climbing back onto the bed, taking the glass from him to set it on the bedside table carefully before leaning close to capture his lips in their first really passionate kiss of the night. With every nerve sparking to life almost immediately, crackling with the electricity coursing through his veins, Jongin found his body responding to the taste of his lover the way it always did, their kisses growing more heated by the second.

 

“I love you.” He said when they parted for breath.

 

A kiss that was barely more than their lips brushing together, “Me too.” Taemin whispered against his mouth, before claiming his lips once more.

 

“Don’t- I don’t want to stop.” Jongin pleaded quietly when Taemin pulled away, hands shifting to still the brunette’s hips from where they had started pushing into Taemin’s without him really even being aware of it, it was so natural for him to be this way with his partner.

 

Taemin laughed, low and husky, “Me neither baby, but we have all night.”

 

“I know, but we haven’t seen each other much since summer vacation ended because of class and- I’ve missed you.” Jongin said, pressing another kiss to the pink plush of Taemin’s mouth, “I don't want to wait, not tonight.”

 

Taemin didn't say anything, but Jongin knew his wish had been granted when his boyfriend kissed him again, so hot and passionate it had Jongin’s head spinning at just how good his lover tasted, how it felt to have his hands on his skin beneath his clothes as he tried to tug them off. Pulling away only to breathe and lend a hand, Jongin discarded his shirt quickly and all but dragged his trousers down his legs and tossed them aside along with his briefs, leaving him bared to Taemin – aching and wanting - in just a few minutes.

 

“You’re eager.” Taemin smirked, eyes dragging down his nude form with such hunger Jongin felt almost shy.

 

Almost. “You have no idea.”

 

Following Taemin’s lead, Jongin allowed himself to be laid down somewhere near the middle of the bed, his breath catching in his chest and heart skipping several beats when his boyfriend then mapped a journey down his body with soft kisses, sharp nips and soothing swipes of his tongue; it had him riled up and going crazy in just a few moments, moaning softly as he took in the sight of lavender tipped white blonde hair down between his open thighs.

 

“Fuck!” Jongin cried out in surprised pleasure when Taemin unexpectedly swallowed down his swollen and aching cock in one go, humming around it and flicking his tongue over the head as he pulled back just because he knew it made Jongin’s thighs tremble- it always did.

 

He swore a dozen sensations bombarded him at once when Taemin’s small but deft fingers came into play, sliding inside one at a time, searching out that sensitive bundle of nerves hidden in the most secret, private part of him- a place that had only ever been touched by Taemin. Jongin was on overload so fast he couldn't breathe properly, didn’t know whether to press down into the mattress against Taemin’s stretching, teasing fingers, or upwards into the sinful heat of his mouth.

 

In the end he just begged for more, moaning loudly as Taemin took his time in teasing him open and pulled off his cock so that he could nurse the flushed red head with his tongue, effectively driving Jongin to near insanity.

 

“Please…please…”

 

“What do you want, Jongin?” Taemin asked, sitting up to look down at his sweating and panting form, legs unabashedly spread, cock solid and leaking between his thighs.

 

“You- just you.” He managed, whimpering when his boyfriend made to climb off the bed, “Please Taemin- make love to me.”

 

“As you wish.” Taemin said, peeling his clothes off slowly, and the sight of him naked had Jongin almost as hot as his boyfriend’s merciless teasing.

 

When he caught him staring, Taemin smirked, “See something you like?”

 

“Come closer and I’ll let you know.” Jongin said, body sighing in relief when Taemin did just that, crawling back onto the bed and over him, settled between his open thighs and pushing their heated flesh together for no reason other than the friction felt amazing.

 

Jongin let Taemin dominate him then, wrapping himself around his boyfriend and succumbing completely to the desire threatening to set him on fire and consume him, to the way it felt to have Taemin love him this way. They made love well into the night, twice Jongin was brought to the brink of orgasm only for Taemin to pull out and manoeuvre them into a different position, where he went from being spread open beneath his boyfriend, to riding his cock like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

 

By the time he was up on his knees facing the foot of the bed – the backs of his thighs pressed against the front of Taemin’s – Jongin was covered in sweat and shaking, sagging against his boyfriend’s body for support as Taemin rutted up into him again and again, fingers twisting in the damp mass of Jongin’s hair as lips sucked bruises into the sensitive skin of his neck.

 

“I can’t…I can’t hold it anymore Taemin please-“ Jongin begged, “Let me come.”

 

Taemin’s thrusts grew quicker, harder, and Jongin knew that his boyfriend wouldn't be able to hold out much longer either, “Touch yourself Jongin.” Taemin whispered against the shell of his ear, nipping the lobe gently- “Touch yourself for me.”

 

Without so much as a moment of hesitation, Jongin did just that, gripping his pre-come slicked cock in his right hand and tugging harshly, wanting to find release before he went crazy with need. “Yes, Taemin- _fuck!_ ” he cried out when one of Taemin’s hands joined his, then slid lower to squeeze at his balls, leaving Jongin so delirious he was surprised he was still conscious.

 

“Taemin-“ he half moaned, half sobbed, and it was the only warning he gave before exploding into orgasm, the room around him fading into white noise as pleasure wracked through him harder than it had in a long time; he only realised Taemin had climaxed too when he felt the warm, wet of his seed beginning to leak down his thighs.

 

Collapsing together, exhausted but sated, Jongin wasted no time in curling up to his lover, resting against his chest and listening to the wild pounding of his heart as it tried to return to normal.

 

“That…was amazing.” Jongin sighed content and happy as he pressed a kiss to the still damp skin of Taemin’s chest.

 

Taemin didn't reply for a long moment, but when he did, nothing on God’s green Earth could have prepared him for the words that left his boyfriend’s lips, “I want to break up.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Jongin questioned, sitting up when his boyfriend moved to do the same.

 

“You heard me Jongin, I want to break up.” Taemin repeated, and Jongin couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

 

“You’re joking, right?” he asked, voice beginning to quiver, “You’re not…serious, are you?”

 

“As a heart attack.” Taemin said, the words cold, blunt and unforgiving, “Honestly I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out by now.”

 

Jongin had to take a deep breath before speaking again, “F-figured what out?” he asked, barely managing to refrain from reaching out to Taemin to stop him as he climbed out of bed and redressed quickly as though they hadn’t just spent hours making love together.

 

“That I just don't love you anymore.” Taemin said as he turned towards him, “If you want the honest truth Jongin, you haven’t been able to actually _satisfy_ me for a while.”

 

Jongin felt sick, not understanding what the hell was going on, or why, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Taemin sighed, “I really thought you were smarter than this.”

 

“I don’t- I don't understand.” Jongin cried, tears already on his face, “It’s our anniversary.”

 

“ _It’s our anniversary_.” Taemin mimicked cruelly, and Jongin barely bit back a sob, “It is Jongin, and you’ve spent the night with your legs apart and begging for it like some common slut.”

 

“Slut? Taemin how can I be a slut when the _only_ person I’ve ever had sex with is _you_?” Jongin asked, angry and upset, “Do you not like the way I make love, is that it?” he asked, desperate to understand why Taemin was doing this to him, “Because I can change Taemin, I can- I could…I don't know- get a manual or something.”

 

Taemin laughed then, and for the first time, the sound of it broke Jongin’s heart, because his boyfriend was _laughing at him,_ “You’ve been swell, really.” He said, “A little vanilla perhaps, but I’ve been going elsewhere for my kinks.”

 

“You mean elsewhere like- cheating on me with somebody else?”

 

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!”

 

Scrambling out of bed and all but falling into his clothes, Jongin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew that things had been a little weird with Taemin lately – he’d been a little distant, perhaps – but _this_ was the last thing he’d expected.

 

But if he thought about it, really thought about it, it made sense, in a soul-destroying sort of way. The strange perfume he’d smelled on his boyfriend’s shirts but had just put it down to new fabric softener, the clothes he’d found around the apartment that he didn't recognise but when he’d questioned it Taemin had gotten angry and defensive instead of just telling him that he’d been shopping or something.

 

They were all hints of an affair, but Jongin had been too blinded by love to see it, “How long?” he asked, praying to keep from falling apart.

 

“Over a year.” Taemin stated as though the words weren’t like arrows to his heart, and Jongin reacted on pure instinct, and slapped him hard across the face.

 

“What game are you playing Taemin?” Jongin asked, cursing the hurt weighing heavily on his words, “Today of all days- why are you doing this to me? I’ve given you three years of my _life_ , Taemin, and you go and _cheat on me!_ ” he shouted before Taemin could say anything, “Three years and all of my love.”

 

“There’s no game, Jongin.” Taemin said, “None of those things matter when you can’t make me happy. Surely you can understand that.”

 

“I don't understand anything right now.” Jongin cried, scrubbing harshly at his tears with the back of his hand, “What happened to the _something special_ you had planned?” he asked, struggling to breathe through the pieces of his broken heart piercing his lungs, “I thought you were going to ask me to move in with you or something- not _this_.” A barely contained sob, “Anything but this.”

 

Taemin laughed again, “Why on Earth would I subject myself to that?” he asked, though it was a questioned not meant for an answer, “At least this way it’ll be an anniversary you’ll never forget.”

 

“I can’t believe the man I fell in love with is the same man standing in front of me right now.” Jongin said, “Things have been a little weird lately but…well I guess now I know why.”

 

“You should leave.”

 

“Why go to all this trouble?” Jongin asked tearfully, packing his things without really even seeing them, “Why set up the perfect night in just to break my heart at the end of it?”

 

Taemin shrugged, “Why not?”

 

“I love you so much, Taemin.” Jongin said, forcing the words around the lump in his throat, “I gave you _everything_.”

 

“You did.” Taemin agreed, “And yet it’s not enough, somehow.”

 

Defeated and beyond humiliated, Jongin went to leave but Taemin stopped him at the front door, and a flicker of hope sparked to life inside him despite himself. But then Taemin smiled in a way that was anything but comforting, “One more time Jongin, happy anniversary.” He said, kissing him hard enough to hurt before all but shoving him out of the door and slamming it in his face.

 

Heartbroken and barely able to see through the torrent of tears blurring his vision, Jongin stumbled down the flights of stairs to the main entrance and then out of the apartment block, breaking into a run that made his lungs burn and chest heave, wondering where the hell he had gone so wrong.

 

The second Jongin reached the relative sanctuary of his university dorm room, he locked himself inside, sliding down the door to the floor, surrounded by his belongings and sobbing desolately, choking on his own tears and wishing the ground would just open up into a black hole and swallow him; all he wanted right now was to disappear.

 

 _Today was supposed to be the beginning_ he thought brokenly, _not the end._

*****

 

Having spent all night barely able to sleep – tossing and turning unable to settle properly – Jongin had ended up laying there, staring up at the ceiling through the darkness, replaying all the terrible things that Taemin had said to him over and over until he had all but memorised them. He couldn't believe how cold and cruel Taemin had been; if he hadn’t been there he wouldn't have believed it was the same person he had loved so much for so long.

 

“Stop torturing yourself like this Jongin.” He scolded himself, glancing at the clock on his bedside table to see seven am glaring at him angrily, “You’ll drive yourself mad.”

 

There were still tears on Jongin’s face, his eyes were sore and his chest hurt, but yet he couldn't seem to stop crying for more than a few minutes at a time and it was starting to make him angry with himself. His dorm room felt suffocating now – dark, cold and lonely – and despite himself Jongin hoped with all he had left of his broken heart that Taemin would apologise, tell him it was some kind of cruel joke and that he wanted him back; that he still <i> _loved </i> _him.

 

In the mean time though, Jongin couldn't spend forever laid in bed and counting sheep for sleep that wouldn't come; he had class in a few hours anyway. Dragging himself out of bed, he decided to try and occupy himself until then before thoughts of Taemin actually drove him crazy, and sat at the small desk in the corner of the room, opening his laptop with the intention of checking his emails and then perhaps getting an hour of early studying in; his teachers had a habit of springing impromptu progress tests on their students, and Jongin liked to be prepared.

 

Clicking through more junk mail than he thought would be possible to accumulate over the few days since he last checked his messages, Jongin’s heart skipped several beats when he saw an email from Taemin that had been sent just a few hours ago; apparently he hadn’t slept, either.

 

Jongin’s mind was reeling before he’d even clicked the message – with the subject header <i> _a gift for you </i> _– made him wonder if this was an apology of some sort, perhaps Taemin had felt too guilty to call or hadn’t wanted to just show up in the middle of the night after what he’d done. The body of the email was empty, but there was a video attachment that had Jongin frowning as he opened it and waited for it to load the file; why would Taemin be sending him a video at five in the morning?

 

By the time the video had finished playing in all it’s high definition glory, there were fresh torrents of tears spilling down Jongin’s cheeks and what he was sure was a bottomless canyon splitting his already breaking heart in two. The intimacy he had shared with Taemin just last night, their lovemaking complete with the soul crushing betrayal that followed it had all been filmed, edited and then sent to him; complete with sound.

 

When the video automatically started to play again as though stuck on loop, Jongin all but slammed his laptop shut, unable to comprehend what he’d just seen. Why would Taemin film him without his consent? Why would he stay up all night editing a video so that Jongin was the only one truly exposed and then send it to him? It didn't make any sense, “None of it does.” He mumbled aloud, wiping the tears away angrily with the back of his hand.

 

Jongin hadn’t been aroused by the footage of him having sex with Taemin, perhaps if it had been something they’d agreed to together, and that hadn’t been followed with his heart being broken, then things might be different but this? Jongin was disgusted by what he had seen, was devastated and felt almost violated by what Taemin had done.

 

For the better part of two hours he sat there, trying to think of plausible reasons for Taemin’s behaviour; there wasn't any. Feeling sick to his stomach, Jongin put himself through the motions of getting a quick shower to wash away last night’s heartbreak, and dressed in the nearest loose t-shirt and slouch jeans he could find before grabbing his stuff and heading to his first class of the day- creative writing; he had dreams of seeing his own stories printed, bound and on a shelf in his favourite bookstore someday.

 

Jongin had thought that the breakdown of his very first serious relationship was going to be the worst thing he would have to deal with at least between now and Christmas. He was wrong.

 

He was barely half way across campus when it started, words being thrown in his direction that made him wonder what the hell was going on until he realised _what_ those words were and why they sounded so familiar, “ _F-figured out what?_ ” one student he’d vaguely recognised stuttered as he walked by, “Really Jongin, are you stupid?” he asked, shouldering Jongin hard before sniggering with a group of people waiting for him.

 

Horror was suddenly a solid lump in his throat and lead weight in his chest because _they were watching the tape that Taemin sent him_. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, clearly people recognised it to be him, too; it made him feel sick all over again.

 

 _“I really thought you were smarter than this.”_ “You’re joking right? Look at him, he’s obviously not the sharpest pencil in the box.”

 

It didn't stop, the closer he got to his morning class, the worse it got, students playing bits of the video, then following it up with an insult of their own brand had Jongin’s face burning with shame and tears blurring his vision; some of these people heckling him he thought he could call _friends_.

 

 _“I could…get a manual or something.”_ “Seriously? Why the hell would he want to fuck you again after that?”

 

 _“I can’t…I can’t hold it anymore Taemin please- let me come.”_ “Listen to him, begging for it like a common whore.”

Hearing his own voice, the sounds he made when lost in the intensity of making love with Taemin had Jongin wishing that he’d just stayed in his suffocating room. Out here was worse, out here the torture was just getting started.

 

 _“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!”_ “Loser is more like it, who would want to live with somebody so pathetic?”

 

 _“I love you so much, Taemin.”_ “Idiot should have seen it coming, I don't even know him but I _know_ there are far more attractive people out there.”

 

And it didn't stop there. As he stood outside his classroom waiting for the lecturer to arrive, the taunts continued, some of them deterring from the video, but still just as lethal a toxin.

 

Kyungsoo, one of his classmates, a relatively quiet young man whom Jongin enjoyed brainstorming ideas for their _first bestseller_ with, was standing with a couple of students that though they shared several classes, Jongin had rarely spoken to more than to say hello, and the things they were saying made him feel almost as ashamed of himself as the video had.

 

“I never did like him much, it’s his skin I think- makes him look like he can’t be trusted.”

 

It was a vile insult that honestly, Jongin didn't really understand the logic behind – then again, since when did bullies have logic? - but what made his stomach twist in hurt was the fact that though Kyungsoo didn't join in with their insults, he didn't exactly defend him either.

 

“Such a slut- begging for it like that and then letting everybody see just how desperate he is.”

 

 _I’m not desperate, and I didn't even know I was being filmed!_ Jongin wanted to scream, but he daren’t even open his mouth for fear that all that would leave his lips was a sob he was struggling to hold back.

 

 _“It’s our anniversary,”_ somebody to his left mimicked in much the same way Taemin had, “How stupid must you be to not figure out that you’re being played in what was it, a year? Why would anybody want somebody so stupid in the first place?”

 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

 

That’s all Jongin was, exactly how he felt when he finally got himself settled in class only to quickly realise that nobody wanted to work with him or be near him at all, really; even Kyungsoo wasn't sitting with him like he usually did, choosing a seat near the back of the class instead.

 

Barely fifteen minutes into his first class, and things were already spiralling out of control. The insults didn't stop, and people were still playing the video on their phones, effectively disrupting the whole class to the point where the teacher had to stop the class and find out what was going on.

 

“Alright,” she started, voice firm and frown fixed firmly in place, “Would anybody like to tell me what’s gotten you all so riled up today?”

 

“I can do better than that,” Baekhyun piped up from the back, “I can show you.”

 

Jongin sat there, mortified beyond all belief as Baekhyun did just that, practically strutting down the classroom and setting up his phone with the teacher’s laptop that could then be synced to the screen on the back wall they used to watch movies on sometimes; Jongin didn't even know that Baekhyun was so tech savvy.

 

“Fag.”

 

“Whore.”

 

“Freak.”

 

Those were but a few of the words hurled at him as the video played to the whole class, and Jongin found himself wishing that the ground would simply open up beneath him and swallow him whole.

 

“Byun Baekhyun that is not appropriate for this class!” the teacher reprimanded him when she realised exactly _what_ it was she was watching, “Back to your seat, right now.”

 

“Whatever, you asked.” Baekhyun shrugged, giving Jongin’s chair a good kick as he made his way back to his friends.

 

It was the last straw. Jongin couldn't sit through this when his heart was still split open and raw from being crushed by Taemin. Having to deal with his classmates’ bullshit on top of it was just too much and he did the only thing he could think of; he ran.

 

For the first time in his life Jongin walked out of a class, tears on his face that he found himself wiping away almost continuously so that he could see to get back to the safety of his dorm.

 

“Where do you think you’re going, whore?” a voice he didn't recognise shouted after him, and turning back briefly, Jongin saw a group of five guys following quickly after seeing him hightailing it out of class.

 

Jongin had never really been bullied before, not in any extreme way at least, and already he had had enough. “How much do you charge for a ride?”

It made him wonder just _how many_ people had seen that video- perhaps the whole campus. “Go to hell.” He shot back, trying to stand up for himself when they crowded him to block his exit,

“Y’know _Jongin_ , whores really should be more polite, before they get themselves into trouble.”

 

“I am _not_ a whore.” Jongin snapped, temper finally flaring, “So why don't you all just go and jerk each other off or something like we all know you really want to, instead of standing here fighting over who’s jerking _my_  chain.”

 

It was a mistake; Jongin knew that when he shoved passed them and started walking in the direction of home and they followed, the guy closest to him pulling him around to punch him square in the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. Reacting on pure instinct, Jongin hit back, bloodying the guys lip and nose, which of course led to the rest of them descending on him like a pack of wolves; bullies never could fight their own battles.

 

Jongin fought back, struggled to defend himself by punching and kicking out at anybody who got close to him, but he was out numbered five to one, and it was a fight he couldn't win, a fight that ended with him beaten up and crying. They bruised his face, winded him when one of them kicked his legs out from under him, allowing them to kick his fragile body anywhere they could reach – possibly cracking a rib in the process – before they finally left him (literally) bleeding in the gutter.

 

Disorientated, Jongin simply lay there, writhing in pain and crying as quietly as he could so as not to alert anybody to his presence, thanking heaven for small mercies because classes was still in session and the campus was mostly deserted; he didn't need anymore witnesses of his shame.

 

Inside the shattered remains of his heart though, Jongin wondered. Wondered what on earth it was about him that was so terrible that Taemin had felt the need to do this to him; until yesterday he had thought them to be happily in love.

 

“But he doesn't love me.” He mumbled to himself, _perhaps he never really had._

Perhaps nobody ever would.

 

It was a thought that wounded Jongin more than the beating he’d just endured; he didn't want to be alone forever simply because nobody deemed him worthy of love. He could feel it already, the bruises blossoming on his tender skin, and that coupled with the tears he couldn't seem to stop crying made it damned near impossible to breathe properly, but he knew he had to move before somebody else decided they wanted to have a go with the new punch bag.

 

What was he supposed to do though? He didn't feel safe enough right now to go back to his dorm alone, and he couldn't exactly tell his parents why the world suddenly seemed to want him to suffer-

 

“Chanyeol.” He almost whispered.

 

His best friend was the only person he could think of to turn to in the hope of somehow getting through this waking nightmare. Dragging himself to his feet, Jongin swayed a little – dizzy and nauseous – then gathered up his things to go to the one place he knew he would be safe from harm.

 

Chanyeol had always been there for him, and so now would be no different- unless his best friend had seen the video and hated him too now, of course.

 

 _Positive Jongin_ he told himself, _think positive._

It was the only way he was going to get through this.

 

*****

To say that Tuesday was usually his most easy going day of the week as far as classes were concerned, Chanyeol was having a hard time comprehending the seriously messed up twist this particular Tuesday had taken; it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

 

He’d been sat in Business and Tourism, just like every other Tuesday morning, but he’d quickly noticed that a good portion of the class weren’t really concentrating on the lecture- choosing instead to huddle together and giggle and whisper about something they were watching on their phones whilst the teacher’s back was turned.

 

“Hey, Chanyeol-“ Minseok whispered from the seat in the row behind him, “You seen Jongin today yet?”

 

“No, why do you ask?” Chanyeol asked, confused because Minseok almost never asked after him or his friends; they weren’t exactly what you would call <i> _close </i>_.

 

“Because I have.” Minseok said, resulting in the friends on either side of him sniggering behind their hands to they wouldn't get reprimanded.

 

Chanyeol frowned, “Care to get to the point?”

 

“Sure.” Minseok smirked, handing down his phone, “Watch that.”

 

Hiding the phone beneath the desk, in took Chanyeol a moment or two to figure out what exactly it was he was watching – the video was apparently playing from the _best part_ – but when he _did_ realise, it made him want to throw up. There on the small screen clutched in suddenly shaking hands, was a damned sex tape, with Jongin as the star.

 

It was a sight that immediately had Chanyeol’s blood boiling, because Jongin would never consent to something like this being public property; his best friend was far too much of a shy soul for that, so to see his privacy being invaded in such a vile manner made Chanyeol want to break things.

 

“Brilliant isn’t it?” Minseok smirked, “Finding out a person’s true colours- who they really are. Which in this case, is that Kim Jongin is a dirty slut.”

 

 _Crack_. Just like he thought, Chanyeol was in the mood to break something- it just so happened to be Minseok’s phone.

 

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Minseok shouted, drawing the teacher’s attention.

 

“I will not tolerate such language in this class Minseok, you know that.” Mrs Cho said firmly, folding her arms across her chest.

 

“Chanyeol deliberately broke my phone!”

 

“Chanyeol,” Mrs Cho gasped, looking surprised, “Is this true?”

 

“Damn right it is.” Chanyeol snapped, his usually placid, polite nature forgotten in defence of his best friend as he gathered up his things, “And for good reason, too.”

 

“And where do you think you’re going in the middle of class?” she questioned when Chanyeol stalked down the room and towards the door.

 

“Ask them.” He said, gesturing to the rest of the class, “I’m sure at least one of them knows.”

 

Bag bashing against his legs with how fast he was walking, Chanyeol crossed campus quickly to nearby student accommodation, heading straight to Jongin’s dorm after discovering that he wasn’t in his beloved creative writing class, only to discover that he wasn't there, either.

 

Still too riled up to go back to class – and needing to know what the hell was going on – Chanyeol headed for home, retrieving his phone from his pocket and dialling Jongin on the way, “Hey Jongin, it’s me-“ he started when it went straight through to voicemail, “I heard about what happened and you’re not home so- call me when you get this? Please, I’m worried about you.”

 

Cursing the fact that his day was suddenly far more stressful than he’d like, Chanyeol swore his heart almost stopped when he arrived home to find Jongin curled up on his doorstep, battered, bloodied and crying quietly to himself.

 

“Shit, Jongin,” he gasped as he rushed to his friend, kneeling down before him, where he had to literally reach out and grasp his face gently to get Jongin to look at him, “What the hell happened?”

 

Jongin had to take a few deep breaths before even trying to speak, “T-They followed me o-out of class- I couldn't s-stay after w-what-“ he broke off, voice failing as a sob spilled from his lips, “I t-tried to leave b-but they…they…”

 

“Alright, it’s alright.” Chanyeol said softly, trying to settle his clearly shaken friend, “Can you stand?” he asked as he stood himself, holding a hand out to Jongin to help him up when he nodded.

 

Apparently though, Jongin’s judgement was misplaced, because the moment he stood up his legs buckled, and Chanyeol ended up carrying him bridal style – bags and all – into the house his parents had very generously helped him rent so that he didn't have to stay in dorms (he liked his space _and_ his privacy) in return for him promising to study hard and not have wild parties every day of the week.

 

Carrying a trembling Jongin straight up the stairs to his bedroom, Chanyeol got him settled on the bed before heading into the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit his mother had insisted he buy, returning moments later to find his best friend sat crying silent tears that immediately broke his heart.

 

“I need to see how bad it is.” Chanyeol said gently, sticking to practicality for fear of what he might say if he didn't, “So…is it okay for me to take your clothes off?”

 

The tremor of fear that ran through Jongin’s body was barely there, but Chanyeol noticed it – he _always_ noticed even the slightest change in the brunette’s body language – and was about to tell him it didn't matter when Jongin nodded, though he still wouldn't properly look at him.

 

Slowly, carefully, Chanyeol peeled Jongin’s clothes away until he was down to his briefs, and the flutter in his heart at the warmth of tan skin beneath his palms was soon replaced with a lurch of horror when he noticed the ugly black and purple bruising spreading across Jongin’s flesh in patterns that were undeniably shoe shaped.

 

 _They kicked him whilst he was down_  Chanyeol thought angrily- _cowards_.

 

Jongin’s body was tense and trembling in a way Chanyeol had never seen before as he cleaned first his bloodied face, then went about applying witch hazel to the bruising on his torso and bandaging his ribs went he complained of them hurting when he breathed in too deeply, “Sorry,” he apologised when Jongin hissed in pain, “You might want to get a doctor to take a look at those.”

 

“Okay.” Jongin said, meeting his eyes for the first time, and Chanyeol saw nothing but pain and fear shimmering in their brown depths.

 

“What is it?”

 

Silence fell between them for a moment, “Do you know why they beat me?” Jongin asked quietly, voice sad and full of shame.

 

Chanyeol nodded, “I left you a voicemail when I couldn't find you.” He said, sitting beside him and wrapping what he hoped to be a comforting arm around him, frowning when Jongin didn't relax into him the way he usually did, “Whoever stole that video and put it on the internet is a monster, Jongin, and what I saw will not change my opinion of you.”

 

Jongin burst into tears then, soon struggling to breathe through his tortured sobs, “What is it, what did I say?” Chanyeol asked, worried he’d only added to his friend’s pain instead of easing it.

 

“T-Taemin.”

 

“What about him?” Chanyeol asked, figuring that Jongin’s boyfriend must be so pissed about this video going public he was about ready to commit murder.

 

“H-he was the one w-who filmed it.” Jongin cried, which Chanyeol had already figured because well- they’d been together years and it was only natural to want to try new things and- “I d-didn't even know and then he sent it to me after he b-broke up with me…” another desolate sob, “A-and everybody else t-too apparently.”

 

Chanyeol’s mind was reeling with this onslaught of information, “Wait, you and Taemin broke up? When?”

 

“L-last night.”

 

 _< i>The bastard broke his heart on his anniversary</i> _Chanyeol seethed silently, remembering how excited Jongin had been all day about what he was sure was going to be <i> _their most perfect night together yet_. </i>

 

“How m-much of the video d-did you see?” Jongin asked before Chanyeol could think what the hell he was supposed to say.

 

“Not much.” He admitted, “I was so disgusted by the idea of your privacy being invaded like that, that I stopped watching as soon as I realised what it was.”

 

Jongin sighed heavily, looking defeated in a way that had Chanyeol wanting to give him all the love he’d kept buried deep within his heart for all these years, “Could you bring me your laptop please?”

 

“Sure.” Chanyeol nodded, complying without question and handing the machine to Jongin, who then fell quiet for a moment before handing it back to him, “Watch it all.”

 

Feeling instantly awkward, Chanyeol tried to protest, “I really don't need to see it, Jongin- it’s not like I don't believe you.”

 

That and the sight of his best friend – and secret flame – having sex might actually end his life prematurely; his heart wasn't cut out for that kind of thing.

“Please.” Jongin insisted, voice pleading, “Because I c-can’t find the words to t-tell you what he did to m-me.”

 

Sighing, Chanyeol relented, taking the laptop from Jongin to then sit obediently and watch the video that was now spreading around campus like a highly infectious disease. Anger (at himself) was never far from Chanyeol’s mind when he found that watching Jongin in such an intimate way – watching him succumb to pleasure and passion so beautifully – started to turn him on, and he felt like scum of the earth for being aroused by something that was clearly hurting his best friend.

 

However that stirring of arousal was snuffed out like a candle in the wind when he continued to watch, seeing the way Taemin broke Jongin’s heart _after_ they’d made love, and decided there and then that he was experiencing true hate for the first time in his life; Jongin was the most beautiful soul Chanyeol had ever met- he didn't deserve this.

 

“A-all I ever did was l-love him.” Jongin spluttered through yet more tears when the video finally came to an end, sounding meek and fragile, “Do you hate me now, too?”

 

Chanyeol’s heart constricted so fast it made him feel a little dizzy, “Of course not.” He said honestly, closing the laptop and setting it aside before turning back to his friend, “It’s not possible for me to hate you, Jongin. Ever.”

 

Though Jongin managed a smile, it was hollow and sad, and seeing somebody who was usually so vibrant and full of life look so small and vulnerable had Chanyeol blinking back tears himself. He and Jongin had been friends since they were kids, they’d been through literally everything together, and so as time went by and Chanyeol had found himself falling in love with his best friend he hadn’t really even been surprised.

 

He had thought it was always going to be him- had assumed that Jongin was feeling the same way. But then Jongin fell hard for Taemin right when Chanyeol was brave enough to tell him how he truly felt and so he’d had no choice but to continue being the best friend he’d always been.

 

He loved Jongin so much, and to see what Taemin had done to him- it made him sick, “I was thinking about dropping out.” Jongin’s quiet admission broke his train of thought, “Not sure I could show my face again, anyway.”

 

“No- Jongin, no.” Chanyeol said quickly, “Don’t let those bastards destroy what you’re working so hard for, don't you dare give up on your dreams because of Taemin.”

 

Jongin looked at him with wide brown eyes still swimming with tears, “I’m scared.”

 

“I’ll be right there with you.”

 

For a while Jongin was quiet, to the point when Chanyeol wondered if he was even going to say anything else at all, “Then I’ll try to keep going, for you Chanyeol-“ he said eventually, “Because right now I’m not strong enough to do it for myself.”

 

Chanyeol smiled, proud of Jongin’s bravery, “That’s all I’m asking.” He told him-

 

It was all anybody could do anyway; _try_.

 

*****

The next day, back in Business and Tourism – had this class always been so long winded? – Chanyeol was still finding it difficult to concentrate on pretty much anything other than Jongin. As promised, his best friend had gone back to classes after spending the night at his place, but the worry on his handsome face even after he’d promised to meet him straight from class was haunting him somehow; he never wanted to see Jongin hurt again, ever.

 

His wandering mind must be obvious though, because Mrs Cho ended up asking him to stay behind as he was following the other students out at the end of class, and it irritated him immediately; he was supposed to be meeting Jongin.

 

“Is everything okay with you, Chanyeol?” she asked when he approached her desk, “First the angry outburst yesterday, and then today it’s like you’re not here at all.”

 

“Somebody close to me is going through a tough time right now.” Chanyeol told her, giving her a vague version of the truth, “I guess it’s on my mind a lot.”

 

Mrs Cho smiled in understanding, “It’s hard to see our loved ones in pain, I can understand that- but please try not to let your concern for another impede your life too much, Chanyeol- you have to keep looking forward, and know that you can come to me if you ever need somebody to talk to.”

 

“I will, thanks.” Chanyeol nodded, relieved when she dismissed him and all but running to Jongin’s class, where he found his friend looking stressed and teary-eyed.

 

“What happened?” Chanyeol asked, instantly ready to fight if somebody else had hurt him.

 

Jongin merely shook his head sadly, “I don't want to talk about it- it doesn't matter.” He said softly, “Let’s just get to class.”

 

Chanyeol had no choice but to comply and follow Jongin to the only class they shared; English language. Fifteen minutes into the lecture, and he finally understood why Jongin was finding it so hard to focus in class. The behaviour of other students was simply getting worse; whispering and sniggering, calling Jongin names and kicking the back of his seat hard- some of them were still passing the video around, quoting bits of it over and over again until Chanyeol could see the way Jongin bit his lip hard to keep from crying.

 

“Kim Jongin,” their teacher, Mr Jang said suddenly, “Would you like to stand up for a moment please?”

 

Never being one to disobey a teacher, Jongin did just that, and Chanyeol watched in horror as somebody they were supposed to respect only furthered his friend’s already crushing humiliation, “It seems that your sex life is the talk of the town these days, and it appears that your presence here today is like pouring blood into shark infested waters so please-“ he paused as if to let his words sink in, “Leave the class so that I can continue with the lesson.”

 

“W-what?” Jongin stuttered, clearly shocked at being spoken to this way by a teacher.

 

“Leave! _Now!_ ” Mr Jang all but shouted, causing Jongin to jump in fright, wiping his eyes harshly as he grabbed his things before making to leave the room.

 

Acting purely on impulse, Chanyeol followed, “I do not believe your name is Kim Jongin, so remain in your seat Park Chanyeol.”

 

“I’m not staying in a class full of compassionless assholes with a poor excuse for a teacher who punishes the _victim_ of abuse instead of the abuser.” Chanyeol announced firmly, standing strong and leading Jongin from the classroom with his head held high before anybody could even think about responding; it was satisfying, in a way.

 

“You didn't have to leave with me.” Jongin said quietly as they made their way to Jongin’s dorm.

 

“Yeah I did.” Chanyeol told him, “They were being jerks.”

 

They both stopped short then, when they reached Jongin’s dorm room to find that the door has clearly been forced open, and upon stepping just inside the doorway, discover that the room has been completely trashed, Jongin’s belongings destroyed; there were even feathers everywhere thanks to somebody tearing into one of his pillows.

 

Jongin burst into tears, and Chanyeol’s heart splintered down the middle all over again as he pulled the brunette into his arms to hold him tightly, “I’m so sorry,” he said into his hair, “I guess the jerk just keeps on coming today.”

 

“I can't do this Chanyeol, I just can’t.” Jongin rambled, stepping away from their embrace, “I love you so much for trying to help but I’m not strong Chanyeol- not right now. I can’t be.” Tears were a constant stain on his cheeks, “I’m going to have to ask you to go…I think I need to be alone right now. I’m sorry.”

 

The words left Chanyeol wounded and confused, “Jongin no, I’m not leaving you alone in-“

 

“<i> _Please_. </i>” Jongin pleaded, sounding desperate, “I need to deal with this on my own.”

 

Chanyeol sighed, “At least let me help with the mess.”

 

Jongin shook his head no, “It’ll be a good distraction.”

 

“Promise you’ll call if you need anything. And I mean _anything_ , I’ll be right here.”

 

“Promise.”

 

Knowing that he had no choice but to respect Jongin’s wishes, Chanyeol reluctantly left his friend alone, but his mind was full of Jongin and nothing else the whole way back to his own home. Leaving him alone in the mess that had been his most treasured possessions was doing nothing but helping increase the worry already coiled in his stomach, squeezing at his insides.

 

First it was the beating and the insults, and now this? Chanyeol hoped that the storm would pass soon and the acid rain of hatred would stop trying to burn Jongin to the bone until there was nothing left but charred remains. But deep down inside he knew that this was just wishful thinking; that the storm wasn't over, they were merely standing in the eye of it-

 

And the worst was yet to come.

 

**~*~**

** Part Two: Damnation. **

****

*****

How long Jongin had remained in the same place since arriving back at his dorm room only to find it completely trashed, he had no idea. But he had dragged his dresser in front of the door to stop anybody who might think it funny to come and harass him some more, and then slumped down onto the floor, curled into a protective little ball and cried until he was sure he had no tears left- until his chest ached, his throat was raw and his eyes burned so badly he half expected to open them and see fire before him, brilliant and deadly.

 

Staring at the carnage now, Jongin still couldn't fathom – couldn't quite _believe_ – that people were capable of such cruelty to him, a person that some of them barely knew; it made him wonder whether it was the guys he shared a dorm with that had deemed it necessary to destroy his belongings, or whether they had simply let other students in to do their dirty work for them.

 

It was a question he would probably never know the answer to.

 

Jongin only realised he must have been curled into his foetal position for a good portion of the day when he finally acknowledged the angry growling of his stomach, and the way his whole body shook thanks to how low his blood sugar must have dropped. Jongin hadn’t been able to face food, had barely slept the night before because he hadn’t even _started_ tidying up the mess, and had skipped three of his four classes today so far simply because he hadn’t been able to face anybody- not even Chanyeol.

 

Despite wishing more than anything that he could remained curled up on the floor – in on himself and safe from the cruel world outside – forever, Jongin knew that it wasn't (realistically) a feasible, or in fact healthy, thing to do; and he really should make a start on making the four walls around him resemble the bedroom they were before again.

 

So with a heavy sigh he dragged himself to his feet, a wave of dizziness hitting him so hard and fast he had to bend double with his hands on his knees until his vision cleared and the room stopped spinning; apparently not eating all day hadn’t done him any favours. Heading to the bottom drawer of his dressing table, that had been yanked open and the contents thrown here there and everywhere, Jongin pulled out the bottom that wasn't glued in properly to reveal his stash of junk food that he kept for when he was having a bad day, out of the way of the guys he lived with because honestly- they were pigs when it came to food.

 

After the better part of three years of dorm life, Jongin had learned to be resourceful- and sometimes sneaky; it was a necessary evil.

 

Somehow managing to force down a bag of chilli flavour potato chips and a bar of his favourite chocolate that pretty much went down in lumps of solid emotion, Jongin gagged several times, heart kicking up a gear and palms beginning to sweat when he was hit with the sudden _I’m going to throw up_ feeling.

 

Jongin had always hated being sick, and so struggled not to panic as he sat down on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, hoping that it was just body shock from having not eating all day and that the feeling would pass. After sitting there for a good fifteen minutes, Jongin deemed that the immediate danger had passed, and so braved having a drink of water, feeling rather betrayed when his stomach cramped a little and he felt nauseous again.

 

“Clearly I can’t win today.” Jongin mumbled, then dragged towards him the nearest pile of mess that used to be his belongings, figuring that he was probably going to feel like shit for a while so should at least _try_ and do something productive in the mean time.

 

Sliding down onto the floor, Jongin worked quickly, and soon had a depressingly large pile of things in front of him that were damaged beyond repair: CD’s DVD’s, picture frames- even some of his clothes had been shredded with what he assumed to be very sharp scissors, the tears were too smooth for it to have been a knife.

 

Grabbing the nearest splintered picture frame – one of him and Taemin on their first date – Jongin tried to retrieve the photograph from what remained of the glass (some things he couldn't just throw away so easily) and hissed in pain when he sliced his palm on a shard of glass he hadn’t even noticed.

 

“Shit.” He cursed when the wound bled profusely, running down his hand so fast he had to press one of his torn up shirts against the split in his skin to stem the blood flow, “Why am I so stupid?” he whimpered, bursting into tears because it was just one more thing added to an increasingly long list of things that he wasn't strong enough to deal with right now.

 

His vision blurred by yet more retched tears, Jongin stumbled into the tiny en suite bathroom – which looked more like a closet when the door was closed – to clean up the mess he’d made of his hand and dress the wound with sterile padding and a bandage. Deeming himself ready for war and fit to carry on fighting, Jongin returned to his previous task of tidying up the mess after first remaking his bed so that he could pile all the things that were salvageable neatly before dumping the rest of it in black bags for him to dispose of later.

 

Wondering what to do next, Jongin’s eyes were drawn to the only pile that was neither on the bed nor in a black bag: his collection of keepsakes from during his relationship with Taemin. It was sentimental stuff really, but he had wanted to have something physical to hold onto to go with the memories to look back on when they were old and grey- yes, he had thought _that_ far into their relationship.

 

Clearly that had been a bad idea. Sighing heavily, Jongin – figuring that he might as well get it over with so that he didn't have to re-break his heart if it ever actually managed to heal – retrieved an old cardboard box from the bottom of his closet that had (surprisingly) remained empty since the day he’d emptied it when he moved in, and sank back down onto the floor to prepare to box up his feelings and the piece of his heart that no matter what happened in the future, would always belong to Taemin.

 

There were plushies, receipts from dates they’d been on, pieces of jewellery Jongin only wore on special occasions because he was clumsy and was terrified that he’d accidentally damage something, and several small piles of photographs, amongst other things. Of course, Jongin was a glutton for punishment, because despite what remained of his heart screaming at him to _not_ do it, he couldn't help but look through the photographs as he packed them away; within moments his face was wet with tears and he was struggling to even see the colourful images held tightly in his shaking hands.

 

There were photographs of them both at the beach one summer, where Taemin somehow managed to get ice cream everywhere _but_ in his mouth, in the local park at a free concert where he had far too much to drink and got lost trying to find Taemin on his way back from the toilet, a holiday in Venice (a generous gift from both of their parents) that had involved sightseeing, champagne, good food and even better sex. There were some beautifully shot photographs from his sister’s wedding where Taemin had been his date, and ones from Taemin’s annual wedding anniversary party; birthdays, Christmases, their first day at university, valentines day and Halloween parties- it was as heartbreaking as it was beautiful, the moments they had shared together.

 

But that’s all they were, _moments_ that had clearly meant so much more to Jongin than they ever had to Taemin. “I’m not sorry that I loved you, Taemin.” Jongin spoke softly to the empty room, “But I _am_ sorry that I wasn't what you wanted, in the end.”

 

Sealing up the box, Jongin cried openly as he packed it away in the back of his closet in the hope that it would somehow help him to move on from a wound still so raw, wondering why his everything hadn’t been enough. He had shared so much with Taemin: his love, his hopes and dreams, his secrets and desires- and it was all for nothing.

 

All he’d been left with was a gaping hole in his chest that he couldn't seem to stop bleeding out as he sat there on the floor once more with his heart in his hands, wondering if sticky tape and glue could ever be enough to seal a wound this deep; he’d always sucked at sewing, and so didn't have a strong needle and thread to hand.

 

Taking a few deep, shuddering breaths in a desperate attempt to calm himself down, Jongin jumped slightly when his phone beeped with a pre-set alert that he had for all of his classes just in case he was ever off campus for anything; creative writing, his last class for today instead of his first.

 

Remembering his promise to Chanyeol to not let people shatter his dreams the way Taemin had shattered his heart, Jongin somehow found the will to drag himself to his feet, pull on some baggy jeans, a loose t-shirt and a black hoodie before grabbing his stuff for creative writing. He could handle one class surely- and he wanted to at least _try_ to be brave for his best friend if not for himself.

 

Besides, he really needed to buy a new lock for his door; it would be far quicker than waiting maintenance to come and replace it. Keeping his head down and his book bag close to him, Jongin practically speed walked to class, finding himself a seat out of the way at the back of the room where it would be harder for people to stare at him the way they immediately did when he entered the room.

 

Trying his best to concentrate through the hurt still pumping poison around his body, Jongin listened to the teacher and took notes the same way he always did, but it was difficult when students started whispering, starting playing that damned video just loud enough and close enough for him to hear it; it threatened to break his heart all over again.

 

“Hey Jongin, you going to be coming to the Halloween party this year?” Baekhyun asked, leaning back in his seat to talk to him when the teacher’s back was turned.

 

Jongin frowned, wondering what the hell a party that was over a month away had to do with anything, “No idea, why?” he asked, trying to sound more nonchalant than he felt.

 

“No reason- was just wondering if you’d thought about costumes.” Baekhyun shrugged, but the smirk on his face and the sniggers coming from the people around him told Jongin that he wasn't done yet, “If you want my advice- you should wear that terrifying costume you were wearing in your _video_ …you’d give everybody nightmares for sure, call it modern day Frankenstein’s monster or something.”

 

“That’s some sound advice there Baekhyun.” Jongin answered back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much those words hurt, how hard he was finding it to keep from crying, “I’ll be sure to take it into consideration.”

 

Clearly Baekhyun hadn’t expected that sort of response, and just turned around when the teacher called his name and told him that her lesson was at the front of the class, not the back. Feeling a little self-satisfied, Jongin renewed his efforts to soldier on through the rest of the class, jumping in shock when the teacher called his name as was making his way out of the room.

 

“I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop bringing your personal life to class, Jongin.” She told him, sounding stern in a way she never had been with him before.

 

Embarrassed, Jongin tried to apologise, “I’m so sorry, I don't mean to disrupt anybody but they-“

 

“But you _are_ disrupting the class, and it has to stop.” She interrupted firmly, “Either your personal life gets left at the door on the way into class, or there is no place for you here. I’m sorry Jongin.”

 

 _No you’re not_ , Jongin wanted to shout, “I understand,” he said instead, tears swimming in his eyes, “I really am sorry.”

 

Leaving the room before she could say any more, Jongin all but ran from the building wishing he had just skipped creative writing too because that was the second teacher in twenty-four hours who had blamed him for being a victim instead of trying to help put a stop to this torture.

 

 _I really have shamed myself_ he thought sadly as he headed into the nearby convenience store to pick up something that at least resembled real food; he could hardly live on crisps and chocolate bars. It didn't take long for people to start recognising him as he made his way quickly down the aisles, and it made him feel vulnerable all over again.

 

By the time he’d gathered up and paid for his things – thankful that the middle aged man behind the counter didn't seem at all bothered by his presence – there was a group of male students hanging around outside the store that made him afraid to leave. Knowing that he had no choice though, Jongin put his head down low and walked out of the store quickly, passing the group without so much as acknowledging that they were there.

 

“Hey look, it’s our resident porn star!” one of them shouted, and Jongin cringed but kept going.

 

Of course they followed, shouting at him as he tried to make his way to the hardware store before going home, “Do you like your new home improvements?” another guy shouted, “It was done especially with you in mind!”

 

The group of students was clearly unimpressed with his silence, which they made all the more obvious when one of them grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him around to face them all, “Please, just leave me alone.”

 

One of the students, a tall young man of medium build with thick black hair laughed cruelly, “Y’know that’s not going to happen, _whore._ ”

 

“I haven’t done anything to you- please,” he all but begged, swallowing hard to keep from crying, “I just want to go home.”

 

The blow to the back of his knees came unexpectedly, knocking him to the floor hard when he couldn't prevent himself from falling in time, “Perhaps not, but you’re still a monster,” he heard the words spat from above him, “and so you deserve this.”

 

By the time the group got bored of kicking him whilst he was down it was raining heavily, and Jongin wondered if it was enough to hide his tears as he dragged his battered body to the hardware store, buying the cheapest lock he could find when he noticed the staff eyeing him as though he was going to steal something before finally heading for home.

 

“Jongin! Wait up!”

 

Hearing that voice calling him had Jongin closing his eyes, _please not now_.

 

Turning around because honestly there was no point in ignoring him, Jongin found himself staring at the man who had caused all this, “What do you want Taemin?”

 

“Now there’s no need to be rude,” Taemin smirked, “I heard you were re-decorating so-“ he dumped a black bag at his feet, “Thought you’d want your stuff back. All the shit you gave to me is in there too, decided to take all the trash out at once.”

 

Another crack to a splintering heart, “Why Taemin?” Jongin asked tearfully, “Why would you do this to me? If you didn't want me anymore you could have just broken up with me-”

 

“Because this is so much more fun.” Taemin interrupted, “Watching you realise just how weak, how _pathetic_ you are.”

 

“Goodbye, Taemin.” Jongin said, mustering all the strength he had left inside him to turn away from his ex-boyfriend and just keep walking.

 

“See you around _blackface!_ ” Taemin shouted after him, and the vile insult hurt more than the beating he’d just gotten.

 

When he finally made it home, Jongin dumped his stuff before fixing his lock as quick as his mediocre DIY skills would allow, locking himself in and intending to stay that way for as long as he could. Stripping off his wet clothes and removing the protective dressing on his wounded hand so he could wash it again, he all but stumbled into the shower, Taemin’s words echoing around his brain like a song stuck on loop until he couldn't stand it anymore, until he was curled up on the floor of the shower, his sobs mixing with the sound of water pelting the tiled floor.

 

Whimpering in pain when the hot water made his hand throb angrily, Jongin then found himself tracing the outline of the cut with his fingertips, strangely fascinated when he applied pressure to the wound just to see if it would bleed more. It did, and Jongin was shocked by the calm that suddenly followed the release of pressure; like the Earth settling after a violent thunderstorm.

 

In an act that he had honestly never given much though to before, Jongin stood up shakily, reaching for the manicure scissors that for some reason always lived in the window, opening them up and lowering the sharp blade to the tender skin of his inside thigh.

 

Pressing down, Jongin hesitated, wondering what the hell he was doing, _you need this_ his subconscious piped up, _causing yourself pain will help you deal with the pain they’ve put you through._

Dragging the metal across his skin, Jongin bit his lip hard as pain seared through him, yet he pushed deeper still, until flowers of crimson bloomed on the surface before withering and dying to spill petals of blood down his thigh in rivulets that soon mixed with the water from the shower to be washed away.

 

 _Is this relief I’m feeling?_ He wondered as he repeated the action several more times until he had a set of perfect little cuts adorning the top of each thigh, each one blossoming crimson and bleeding into the one next to it. It was a sick thing to find beautiful, he knew that, but he was addicted to the feeling already.

 

“It’s okay.” Jongin said aloud as he washed himself down and cleaned himself up, “It was just one time, a moment of weakness. It’s okay- _I’m_ okay.”

 

 _It won’t happen again, I can control it,_ he thought.

 

But he thought wrong.

 

*****

 

Though the semester had barely even started, Jongin had already packed up some of his things to go and stay with his parents for a while- just until things had died down and it was actually possible for him to attempt to learn something in class without being disrupted by other students.

 

He had tried phoning ahead, but there had been no answer so he’d ended up leaving a message to let them know he was coming home for a while and that he’d explain everything properly later. Gazing out of the taxi window on the way to the train station, Jongin found himself thinking about Chanyeol. Since telling him that he needed time to himself for a while to sort his head out a few weeks ago, Jongin hadn’t seen his best friend because he’d all but barricaded himself in his dorm; he hadn’t even told Chanyeol he was leaving.

 

It was just another thing for him to hate himself for.

 

“Jongin!” his mother cried when she answered the door, looking surprised as well as concerned, “We got your message, what on earth happened to you- were you in a fight?” she asked when she noticed the bruises that still weren’t healing because people kept adding to them as she ushered him into the house.

 

“Not exactly, I got jumped leaving campus a few days back.” Jongin lied, not knowing how to even <i> _begin </i> _to tell her the truth, “Homosexuality isn’t accepted by everyone, remember.”

 

Before his mother could say anything else, his father appeared in the kitchen doorway, “Taemin not joining you?” he asked, though the expression on his face didn't seem as friendly as usual.

 

The mention of Taemin’s name had Jongin heartsick, “No, not this time.” He said, trying to keep his voice from shaking, “He’s still got classes, I was just hoping to stay here a few days- just until my bruises heal and stuff. If that’s okay?”

 

“Of course honey, you don't have to ask to visit your own home.” His mother told him, “Why don't you take your things upstairs and then wash up? Dinner’s almost ready, if you’re hungry.”

 

“Of course.” Jongin smiled, carrying his few bags upstairs and into his old bedroom, not surprised to find that it was still much the same as he’d first left it several years ago; it always was.

 

Taking a clean shirt and trousers into the bathroom with him, Jongin changed and washed up quickly, not wanting to let his eyes linger on the myriad of cuts and scars now criss-crossing their way across his thighs, over his hips- now spreading upwards to his lower stomach. Some deeper than others, some thicker, some red, some pink, some scabbed over, some smooth- Jongin had become addicted to taking himself apart with a blade piece by piece faster than he’d thought possible.

 

But now he couldn't stop, couldn't go for more than a day or two without taking that blade to his skin. Which was why he couldn't linger, because if he did then he’d be tempted- and the last thing he wanted was for his mother to find him cutting himself in the family bathroom.

 

When Jongin headed back downstairs and into the kitchen, the atmosphere between his parents was different, tense, and the brunette recognised their body language almost immediately; they’d been arguing about something.

 

The room was almost unnaturally quiet as they sat around the table for dinner – homemade chilli beef stew and dumplings – it made Jongin feel uncomfortable (almost unwelcome) in a way it never had before, “So what have you both been doing since I last saw you? Anything new?” he asked, trying to disperse the tension that seemed to have suddenly set solid between them.

 

His mother smiled, “I have a book club now, started it with a couple of our neighbours, we’ve started exchanging recipes lately though too so we’re thinking about perhaps doing to baking and then having a little bakery sale or something.”

 

“That sounds nice, what book are you reading?” Jongin asked, pleased that she looked so proud of what she was doing.

 

“Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice.”

 

Jongin laughed softly, “I saw the movie.”

 

They were interrupted by his father suddenly slamming his fist down on the table so hard it made them both jump, “Are we really going to sit around this table and eat dinner as though it’s any other time he visits- as though he hasn't done anything wrong?”

 

Jongin frowned, confused, “I’ve been at school, dad- what could I possibly have done wrong?”

 

“Let me think about that for a minute-“

 

“Please, you promised you weren’t going to do this.” His mother interrupted, but his father ignored her as though she hadn’t spoken.

 

“Oh yes I remember, how about the fact that we, your _parents_ , got emailed a video of you having sex!”

 

Mortified didn't even begin to describe the way Jongin felt then, “I’m so sorry, you were never meant to see-“

 

“You’re a disgrace Jongin!” his father yelled, “How dare you think that that was an okay thing to do- to let yourself be _filmed_ like some kind of porn star and-“

 

“It wasn't like that!” Jongin shouted defensively, “And I’m so <i> _sorry </i>_, that I had no idea that my sex life was being made into a movie- that my own boyfriend decided to do the cruellest thing he could think of to let me know he didn't want me anymore!”

 

“That’s what happens when you have illicit relationships with other men.”

 

“Now that’s not fair.” Jongin’s mother cut in, trying to defuse the situation, “We’ve always accepted Jongin’s choices.”

 

“That doesn't mean I want to see it.”

 

“You’re a fucking hypocrite!” Jongin shouted, but the words were barely more than a choked sob he was so upset and embarrassed.

 

His father rounded on him then, hitting him so hard across the face Jongin had to grip the table to keep from being toppled off his chair, his already bruised face smarting instantly, “And you’ve shamed the whole family by behaving in such a vile manner for who knows how many people to see! It’s unforgivable Jongin, I’m embarrassed- _we’re_ embarrassed to have you in our house right now.”

 

“Well I’m sorry that I’m not the perfect son you always hoped for.”

 

His father scoffed, “You’re no son of mine, and I want you out of my house.”

 

Blood running cold, Jongin turned to his mother, who looked guilty as hell but said nothing in his defence, “You can’t do this to me- you’re my _family_ , please…don’t throw me out…there’s no safe place left for me to go.”

 

When his father went back to eating his meal as though he hadn’t just crushed what remained of his only sons’ spirit and his mother simply shook her head sadly, Jongin fled to his room in tears, stuffing back into his bags the things he hadn’t even been here long enough to unpack.

 

Retrieving his phone, Jongin called the only person he could think of who might be able to offer him at least a little kindness, “Chanyeol hey, it’s m-me,” he stammered down the phone through his tears when it rang through to voicemail, “Listen I k-know we haven’t spoke in a w-while and that’s all my fault but-“ he took a deep breath to steady himself, “Could you p-please come and pick me up from my p-parents house? T-they saw the video and- just please…I don't have a-anyone else to t-turn to…”

 

“When I say out Jongin-“ his father’s voice yelled up the stairs as he hung up the phone, “That means OUT! NOW!”

 

Jongin had never felt more worthless than he did it that moment, praying silently for Chanyeol to take pity on his tattered soul, and come and take him away.

 

*****

It wasn't the happiest of occasions, Chanyeol thought, for the first time you hear from your best friend in weeks to be the sound of them crying down the phone, begging you to come to them. Which was exactly what Chanyeol was doing right now, driving to Jongin’s parents house to go and pick him up for reasons as yet unspecified; Jongin hadn’t even told him he was going back home.

 

Since the night they’d gotten back to Jongin’s dorm to find his room trashed, Chanyeol had given his best friend the space he’d requested, though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been worried about him almost constantly every single day- it was getting to be more than a little bit of a distraction.

 

When he pulled up outside the house that he’d spent almost as much time in as his own growing up, Chanyeol’s heart almost fell out of his chest at the sight that greeted him. Jongin was sat, shaking and crying on the grass of his parents front garden, knees pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around them, surrounded by black bags that were all full.

 

“Jongin ah,” Chanyeol said softly as he approached his friend, kneeling beside him to wrap an arm around his shoulder, “What’s going on?”

 

Jongin looked at him then, pain fracturing the beauty of his eyes, “T-they saw Chanyeol…they s-saw the video a-and…t-they threw me out…” he said, and all it did was make Chanyeol want to pull him closer, hold him tighter, safer, “I k-know I’m p-probably the l-last person you want to h-hear from but C-Chanyeol I didn’t k-know who else to call!”

 

“It’s alright, Jongin, it’s alright.” Chanyeol hushed him, kissing his hair over and over as he spoke in the hope that it would comfort him, “I’ll always be here for you.” He sighed, looking around at all the bags, “Is this everything?”

 

Jongin nodded, tears still streaming down his blotchy face, “E-everything I hadn’t a-already taken to Uni.”

 

“Let’s get it all in the car then.” Chanyeol said, “You’re moving in with me.”

 

“R-really? You’d do that for m-me?”

 

“Jongin, you’re my best friend,” Chanyeol told him seriously, “I’d do _anything_ for you.”

 

Chanyeol had read somewhere that the most beautiful smile was the one that struggled through tears, he’d never believed it until Jongin smiled at him then; it was all he could do not to kiss him until it didn't hurt anymore. Instead he settled for helping Jongin to his feet and getting him settled in the car before retrieving all of his belongings, disgusted that neither of Jongin’s parents even tried to stop them or put things right.

 

How a person could abandon somebody the were supposed to love so easily, Chanyeol would never understand- he could never just push Jongin aside the way so many seemed to be, his heart wouldn't allow it. He loved Jongin, which made him one of the most important people in his life, whether his best friend was aware of it or not.

 

Unreciprocated love was as real as any other, his heart could testify to that.

 

It took only a few hours after that for Chanyeol to drive them back to campus so that Jongin could pack up his dorm too, before driving home and taking all of the brunettes’ things up to the spare room for him to unpack whenever he felt up to it.

 

Right now though, they were curled up on the sofa watching a really bad television show that Chanyeol couldn't even remember the name of, waiting for the Chinese take out to arrive that he’d ordered mostly because Jongin hadn’t even been able to eat his dinner before all hell had broken loose and his father had disowned him and his mother had stood by at let their only son be treated so badly.

 

“Thanks so much for doing all this for me Chanyeol.” Jongin said suddenly, breaking his thoughts, “And I really am sorry, for not keeping in touch better.”

 

Chanyeol shook his head, smiling warmly “Don't be sorry, you wanted your space and I understand that- I’m pleased that you knew to call when you needed me though- and don't ever thank me for being your friend Jongin, I know you’d do the same for me if the situations were reversed.”

 

“In a heartbeat.” Jongin said without hesitation, “But that doesn't change that I want you to know how much this means to me. I know I’m not the easiest person to-“

 

“Stop right there.” Chanyeol interrupted, noticing the way Jongin’s eyes moved to the floor when he spoke, as though too ashamed to look at him, “Whatever negative thing you were going to say about yourself, don’t, because it’s not true.” He told Jongin firmly, wishing he could just fix this somehow, “And you’re more than welcome in this house, Jongin. Wherever I am, you’ll always be welcome.”

 

Silence fell between them then – a little awkward but not quite strained – and Chanyeol sent a silent thank you to Fate when a knock on the door announced the arrival of their food, “I’ll get it.” He said, wondering if he was imagining the weird sort of tension that seemed to be filling the space between them right now.

 

They ate quietly for a while, with Jongin staring at his food and pushing it around his plate rather than actually eating much of it; it made Chanyeol’s heart ache to watch, “Chinese a bad idea?” he asked.

 

Jongin shook his head, “No, _I’m_ the bad idea.” He sad quietly, though his voice was heavy with pain and frustration, “My parents should have gotten rid of me when they had the chance- before I was even born, before I could grow up into such a worthless disappointment.”

 

“You listen to me Kim Jongin,” Chanyeol started firmly, setting his food down on the coffee table and doing the same with Jongin’s before turning to face him, “you are _not_ worthless,” he said, taking Jongin’s face in both hands to force the brunette to look at him, “You’re my best friend and I _love_ you, which is how I know that you’re going to get through this, Jongin.” He promised, “I’ll help you.”

 

When Jongin moved to embrace him with tears in his eyes, Chanyeol didn't even think about resisting, merely pulled the brunette as close to his body as he could and held him so tightly he felt the way Jongin’s body shook as he cried.

 

Chanyeol hadn’t really known how to feel about Jongin moving in with him – obviously he loved the idea of him being around a lot of the time – but Jongin wasn't moving because he wanted to <i> _be </i> _with him; he was doing it to escape the cruelty of seemingly everybody else. But right then, with Jongin crying and apologising, thank him and clinging to him like he was his only remaining lifeline, Chanyeol decided that the reasons didn't matter-

 

He loved Jongin, and he was going to get him through this. He _had_ to.

 

*****

A couple of weeks later, and Chanyeol found himself thinking that it was like Jongin had never <i> _not </i> _lived with him, he’d settled himself in so well. He was still sad a great deal of the time, still cried sometimes unexpectedly (Chanyeol had quickly learned the best thing to do was either comfort him or leave him be, depending on his mood), but he pitched in with daily chores without complaint and had even taken over doing most of the cooking- which Chanyeol secretly loved.

 

The only thing about their arrangement that Chanyeol didn't particularly like, was that Jongin obviously felt indebted to him for allowing him to move in. That was the last thing he wanted Jongin to feel, so he was trying to think of a way to let him know that he wanted him there anyway.

 

They had just finished having dinner on the sofa one night watching a movie – Iron Man, to cheer Jongin up – and so far his best friend seemed pretty relaxed, so Chanyeol decided to broach the topic that had been on his mind so much, “Jongin, I hope you know that I was always going to ask you to move in with me one day,” he said, noticing the small smile that then curved the brunette’s lips, “It’s just- when you and Taemin got serious I always figured you’d move in with him instead.”

 

The smile turned sad so quickly it stabbed at Chanyeol’s chest, “Me too.” Was all he said, and it made Chanyeol feel so guilty he could punch himself.

 

“Shit, Jongin that was insensitive, I’m sorry.” He said quickly, cursing his own stupidity, “I’m a jerk- ignore me.”

 

Chanyeol swore his heart did several backflips when instead of getting angry or upset, Jongin simply leaned closer to him and pressed a soft, barely there kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You’re not a jerk, Chanyeol.”

 

“I just want you to know that I _want_ you here,” Chanyeol told him, blushing slightly when a silent _I want you, period_  tumbled through his mind, “So don't feel like I’m doing you some huge favour or something- you don't owe me anything.”

 

Jongin didn't say anything, but smiled a little brighter and instead of clearing the dishes away, merely put them on the coffee table in much the same way as the night he moved in, only this time he cuddled up close to him as though he wanted to use Chanyeol’s body heat instead of his own; it made Chanyeol smile like a fool as he wrapped his arms around him and held him in a way that gave the perfect illusion that this was more than what it was.

 

“I love you, Chanyeol.” Jongin said quietly, and he swore his heart momentarily stopped, only to beat to a slower, sadder pace when his brain reminded him that he didn't mean it in the way Chanyeol wanted him to.

 

“I love you, too.” He replied honestly anyway, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, “Always.”

 

Chanyeol didn't remember falling asleep on the sofa watching television with Jongin safe in his arms, but when he woke the next morning to find Jongin not there he remembered wishing that his best friend could just stay in his arms forever.

 

A glance at the clock had him jumping up in shock when he realised he had class in an hour and was going to be late if he didn't get a serious move on. Dashing up the stairs to shower and dress in what had to be record time, Chanyeol then headed into the kitchen to find that Jongin had already made him breakfast – scrambled eggs on toast and of course, coffee – and also a packed lunch for him to take to campus with him because he hated cafeteria food.

 

“You’re a life saver.” Chanyeol said in way of greeting, smiling when pink coloured the apples of Jongin’s cheeks as he sat at the table to have breakfast with him.

 

“Not really-“ he said quietly, then corrected himself, remembering how Chanyeol kept telling him not to talk down about himself, “I can’t have you starving to death in the middle of class now, can I?” he joked, and the shy sound of his laugh was music to Chanyeol’s ears.

 

“You got any plans for today?” Chanyeol asked, still hating that because he wasn't attending classes right now, Jongin had to spend a lot of time by himself.

 

“Not sure, but I know it’s at least bathroom cleaning day,” Jongin said, sighing dramatically, “I’ve been putting it off all week because I hate the smell of that cleaner you’ve got in there- pine fresh is not your friend.”

 

The way he wrinkled his nose in distaste was so adorable Chanyeol had to busy himself clearing the breakfast dishes away to keep from kissing the end of it just to see if Jongin would wrinkle his nose again, “Thanks.” He said when Jongin handed him his lunch before following him into the hallway where he retrieved his stuff for class and pulled on the nearest pair of sneakers, “For breakfast and for lunch.” He hugged him close but quickly, not wanting to linger longer than what would be considered normal, “Leave the bathroom if you want- I’ll pick up a different cleaner on the way home. Lemon scented or something, how’s that sound?”

 

Jongin smiled beautifully, “That sounds perfect.” Pressing a (seemingly impulsive) kiss to his lips, Chanyeol couldn't help but respond instinctively, pulling Jongin closer and deepening their kiss, that lasted longer than expected until the brunette pulled away sharply, looking as shocked as Chanyeol felt.

 

“I um- I’d better get to class.” Chanyeol said, feeling beyond awkward and confused, “Don't want to be late.”

 

Jongin nodded, flushed, “Yeah- have a good day.” He said a little too enthusiastically as Chanyeol took the cowards way out and all but ran to his car.

 

Once inside, he took a few deep breaths to steady his racing heart before driving to university in a daze, wondering what the hell was going on because Jongin had just _kissed_ him- but why?

 

*****

Though Jongin had quickly gotten used to living with Chanyeol, he was now worried that he’d crossed a line and perhaps even offended his best friend when he’d kissed him this morning, he had dealt with it the way he seemed to be dealing with everything these days- with razor blades and blood stains.

 

After being careful to clean up the mess, Jongin had then undertaken the task he’d dubbed _stress cleaning_ , and had dusted and washed down and vacuuming what had to be every inch of the house to try and keep his mind _off_ his best friend. He didn't even know why he’d done it in the first place, other than it had seemed like a natural thing to do at the time. What kind of person kissed their best friend when they were still (sort of) in love with their asshole of an ex-boyfriend?

 

“A monster.” Jongin mumbled aloud, _a monster like me._

It made him wonder if it was one of those things that was best left alone, the last thing he wanted to do was ruin the little routine they had going. Jongin had yet to brave going back to classes, which was why he’d taken over a lot of the housework and cooking; Chanyeol wouldn't let him put any money towards rent, _“I want you here Jongin, so you’re not paying for the privilege_.” He’d said when Jongin had asked him about it.

 

“Jongin!” Chanyeol’s voice shouted, startling him because he hadn’t realised the time what with all his wallowing in self-pity, “You home?”

 

“Upstairs!” Jongin called back, he was in the spare bedroom that was now his, finally arranging his collection of animal plushies that Chanyeol had told him not to be embarrassed about on top of his closet.

 

“I’m glad you finally brought them out of hiding.” Chanyeol’s deep voice sounded from behind him.

 

“Yeah, I was starting to feel bad for-“ Jongin started as he turned to face his friend, only for him to completely forget what he was saying when he saw his best friend standing there dressed in a black suit that made the flame red of his hair appear even more fiery and looking more handsome more than he ever recalled thinking before, “Why’re you all dressed up- since when did you own a suit? Thought you hated formal wear.”

 

Chanyeol laughed softly, “Usually yes, but not today.” He glanced down at himself, smoothing out his clothes, “I went into town after class to pick this up.”

 

Apparently it was later in the day than Jongin realised, “What’s the occasion?” he asked, “You got a hot date or something?”

 

Chanyeol reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving two small strips of thin looking card, “Tickets to see Swan Lake tonight,” he explained when Jongin frowned in confusion, “As for a hot date, that depends- would you like to come and watch it with me?”

 

Jongin was starting to wonder why his whole world was spinning on such a confusing axis that was completely unfamiliar to him- Chanyeol was flirting with him, offering to take him to see one of his favourite ballets and _Chanyeol was flirting with him_.

 

“That wasn't supposed to leave you stumped.” Chanyeol said, looking a little embarrassed, “It’s not really a date, I was just- never mind, I thought you might like to go, that’s all.”

 

“I do! I do want to go!” Jongin cried when Chanyeol turned to leave, crossing the room to hug him and press a quick kiss to his cheek to say thanks, “I’ve always wanted to see Swan Lake, you know that.”

 

Chanyeol nodded, “I do, so get yourself dressed up and let me take you out for the evening.”

 

Waiting until Chanyeol left the room so that he could change in peace, Jongin then tore through his closet like a tornado looking for something appropriate to wear to the theatre, not wanting to make his friend look bad having him show up with somebody who looked like trash.

 

 _But you always look like trash_ Jongin’s insecure mind piped up as he picked out a pair of black trousers, shoes and a black button down shirt, the decided to at least _try_ to be brave and pulled a white dinner jacket that he hadn’t worn in forever from its hanger.

 

Stripping down to his briefs and checking that none of his cuts needed redressing, Jongin changed quickly, running a brush through his mop of chocolate brown hair before daring to give himself the once over in the mirrored closet door.

 

“Too dark. Too dark…too fucking dark.” He muttered to himself angrily when he took in the tan of his skin next to the white of his jacket.

 

“I like this jacket.” He said sadly as he started to shrug it off his shoulders to exchange it for a black one, then stopped when an idea struck him.

 

Crossing the room to his dresser, Jongin rummaged around in one of the drawers for a moment before retrieving the makeup he’d been waiting for an occasion to try out; pale face powder.

 

Grabbing that and his favourite cherry chap stick, Jongin returned to his previous position in front of the mirror, where he applied the powder to half of his face at a time. It broke his heart a little, to see how different each side of his face could look before he covered that up too, over and over until he deemed himself as pale as he could be without looking ridiculous.

 

A quick swipe of his chap stick so that his lips weren’t so pale he looked sick, and Jongin was ready to go, heading back downstairs to where Chanyeol was stood waiting for him, “Jongin you look-“ he paused upon seeing his _new improvements_ , and seemed speechless for a moment, “You look wonderful, very handsome.”

 

The compliment had Jongin’s heart unexpectedly skipping a beat, “Thanks, and so do you.” _Perhaps I should wear this stuff more often._

The taxi ride to the theatre was a relatively short one, and Jongin was awed by all the formal even wear everybody in attendance was clad in; so many beautiful people it made him wonder if he even had the right to be standing in the same room.

 

“For you.” Chanyeol smiled, handing Jongin a glass of champagne he’d bought from the theatre bar.

 

“Why thank you.” Jongin said, inclining his head when he caught onto his friend’s playful mood.

 

Excitement was a constant flutter in his stomach as Chanyeol (who really did look very handsome) led them to their seats, where they were surrounded by sophisticated looking people all reading through the programme that his friend had gotten them a copy of too.

 

When the lights suddenly went down, Jongin automatically grabbed for Chanyeol’s hand, “I’m having fear of the dark issues lately.” He whispered embarrassedly, then smiled to himself when his friend’s response was to simply wrap an arm around him and pull him closer instead.

 

Cuddling close to Chanyeol’s warmth – the theatre was a little cold – Jongin’s heart skipped a beat when the opening music rang out, as beautiful as he had always hoped it would be every time he’d listened to it at home and imagined what it would be like to see it for himself; he’d always loved dance, ballet in particular, he could even dance a little himself when the mood took him.

 

Jongin had always loved the story of Swan Lake; Prince Siegfried went hunting one night and one of the swans he was chasing suddenly transformed into a beautiful woman- Princess Odette, who told the Prince that her and her companions were cursed and turned into swans by the evil sorcerer Baron Von Rothbart. The spell could only be broken if one who had never known love swore an oath of undying love and promised to marry her. The Prince declared his love and promised to be loyal to Odette forever.

 

At a palace reception where Siegfried was to choose a bride, Odette arrived unexpectedly and danced with the Prince, who asked her to marry him. Only then did the Princess reveal her true face as Odile- Rothbart’s daughter. Of course the real Odette saw everything and fled the palace, being followed by Siegfried who realised what a terrible mistake he had made. He followed Odette to the lake and begged for her forgiveness, which though granted by the Princess, it did not change the fact that the vow had been broken. Heartbroken, the lovers decided that if they could not live together, then they would die together, and so threw themselves into the lake, where they were drowned.

 

Jongin was enthralled by the whole performance- from the gracefully beautiful waltz in Act 1 between the Prince and Odette, to the playful and fun _dance of the cygnets,_ until his favourite piece of all, the powerful and seductive Black Swan _Pas de Deux._

He was so mesmerized by the Black Swan’s performance and so moved by Fate of the doomed lovers that by the end of the show there were tears streaming down his face that he only hoped weren’t smearing his carefully applied makeup.

 

“You okay?” Chanyeol, who hadn’t let go of him throughout the whole thing, asked when the lights came back up, reaching out to gently thumb a tear from his cheek.

 

Jongin nodded, “Thanks so much for bringing me here- the whole thing was perfect!” he gushed as Chanyeol took his hand to lead him outside, “Especially being able to share it with you.” He added shyly, not really knowing why he even said it.

 

Chanyeol merely smiled, looking a little bashful himself, “Let’s go home,” he said, “I’ll cook for you tonight.”

 

It was a shame, Jongin thought when he walked into his bedroom the better part of an hour later after being stuck in traffic on the way home, that all good things had to come to an end so soon. As he stripped off his clothes in the bathroom, Jongin couldn't take his eyes of the sterile dressings that now almost constantly covered the tops of both thighs. Peeling them off and discarding them, he found himself reaching for his razorblade and slumping down onto the tiled floor despite the wonderful night he’d had with Chanyeol.

 

Chanyeol, his best friend who had been there for him through everything, and yet still Jongin couldn't stop himself turning to a tiny strip of metal to make himself feel better- feel _anything_. This was the only thing Jongin had control of, the only thing he was good at now…picking himself apart at the seams just to bleed until the pain went away.

 

Control, Jongin thought he was in complete control, but he was wrong. As he pulled the razor away from his thigh after cutting several times, his heart kicked up a gear and his palms started to sweat when after a moment or two the bleeding didn't stop like it usually did. Instead it was oozing from the wound so fast and thick he couldn't even see the size of the cut he’d made. Pressing his hands to the wound Jongin started to cry when still the blood wouldn't stop, “No, please no,” he whimpered as he tried to apply more pressure to his leg, “I don't want to die- not like this…please.”

 

For the first time, Jongin had cut too deep and couldn't seem to get it to stop bleeding. Terrified, he did the only thing he could think of-

 

He screamed.

 

*****

“Chanyeol!”

 

The sudden scream of his name had Chanyeol almost dropping the pans he was retrieving to cook him and Jongin a late dinner, and he ran towards the sound, taking the stairs two at a time before barging into the bathroom.

 

“Jongin what’s-“ the words died in his throat when he took in the sight of his best friend, slumped on the floor completely nude, cuts that Chanyeol hadn’t even known existed all over his lower body and blood pumping from a gash in his thigh at an alarming rate, “What the hell did you do!” he shouted, as sickened as he was shocked as he dropped to Jongin’s side.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry you had to see me like this but it won’t stop bleeding and-“ a sob tore through Jongin’s pale lips, “I’m scared I’m going to die- I don't want to die like this Chanyeol _please_.”

 

“You’re _not_ going to die Jongin,” Chanyeol told him firmly, tears in his own eyes; “We’re going to get you to the hospital and-“

 

“No!” Jongin almost screamed, “No hospital, please, don't take me there.”

 

“But-“

 

“ _Please!_ ”

 

Not knowing what else to do, Chanyeol grabbed the nearest towels and pressed them onto Jongin’s blood soaked thigh as hard as he could, praying that this would be enough and that he hadn’t caught an artery or something else horrific. Seeing the man he loved covered in his own blood after they’d had what he’d thought was a wonderful time together broke Chanyeol’s heart in so many ways he doubted it would ever feel whole again.

 

“I think it’s slowing down.” Chanyeol told him when he dared check the wound some ten minutes later, “You might need stitches though.”

 

Practicality. It was the only way he was going to be able to deal with what he was seeing right now when Jongin looked at him, so sad and broken he had to look away, “There’s a needle and thread in my bedside drawer. If you get it for me, I can stitch it up myself.”

 

“You’ve cut yourself this deep before?”

 

Jongin shook his head, “No, but I taught myself basics for…well…just in case.”

 

The bluntness of his words – how _calm_ Jongin was about tearing himself apart – had Chanyeol feeling sick all over again, “I’ll be right back, then.”

 

Doing as he was asked, Chanyeol retrieved the needle and thread, but then had to go about cleaning up the blood from seemingly everywhere because he couldn't bring himself to watch Jongin literally sew himself back together- it was just too much to take in one night, “Done, I think.” Jongin said quietly, sounding ashamed of himself for having to get Chanyeol involved.

 

“Alright.” Chanyeol said, “Let’s get you patched up properly and into bed. We’ll just have a big breakfast tomorrow, or something.”

 

Nodding his agreement, Jongin then allowed Chanyeol to clean the rest of the wounds – he had to bite his lip to keep from crying when he saw just how much beautiful tan skin had been torn into, thighs, hips, stomach; it seemed endless – and dress them properly before carrying him back to his bedroom; no way was he letting Jongin sleep on his own tonight, not after this.

 

Getting him dressed in a loose t-shirt and briefs and settled in bed, Chanyeol stripped down to his own underwear before climbing in beside him, pleased that Jongin didn't resist when he spooned his body around him so that he could hold him tightly.

 

“Why didn't you come to me Jongin?” Chanyeol whispered into the shell of his ear, “Why didn't you tell me that it was this bad- that you were hurting yourself?”

 

Jongin took a deep, shuddering breath before replying, “I didn't want to worry you,” he said just as quietly, “Did think you’d understand that I _have_ to do this- it makes me feel better.”

 

The statement shocked Chanyeol so much he actually pulled away to sit up in bed, “You can’t be serious?”

 

“You wouldn't understand.”

 

“Then _make_ me understand, Jongin,” Chanyeol pleaded, “Because from where I’m sat it looks like you’re causing yourself pain so others don't have to- this path only leads to more problems and I know you know that.”

 

Jongin moved quickly then, sitting up properly too before rounding on him, “What would you have me do then, hm?” he asked angrily, tears streaking through the remnants of makeup on his face, “At least this way I’m in control of the pain!”

 

The fact that Jongin obviously believed what he was saying hurt Chanyeol more than finding him covered in blood, “Jongin this is _not_ control,” he told him, tears on his own face now, “It’s a slippery slope that will only lead you to the hospital…or worse.”

 

“Most of the time I feel like I’m dying, anyway.”

 

“Don't say that baby, please.” Chanyeol pleaded, “You have no idea how much you mean to me- and for me to not know that this was even happening…Jongin it breaks my heart to see what you’ve been doing to yourself instead of coming to me.”

 

“You called me baby.” Jongin said, his voice calmer though his eyes still swam with unshed tears, “Nobody but Taemin has ever done that before.”

 

Chanyeol hadn’t even realised he’d said it, and now all he felt was the embarrassment, “Right, sorry.” He said, “I didn't even realise- it won’t happen again.”

 

 _But you are my baby_  he wanted to scream, _or at least I wish you were._

“Don't be sorry just- I don't know.” Jongin sighed heavily, “Can we not fight anymore? I ruined our night and now I just want to go to sleep. Can I go to sleep?”

 

Seeing how exhausted Jongin clearly was, Chanyeol didn't have the heart to demand that he talk more, than he explain to him exactly _why_ he’d been cutting himself- he doubted he’d get much out of him right now anyway, “Sure.” He said instead of questioning him further, smiling despite himself when Jongin curled himself back into his previous position; he’d always been adorable.

 

“Hold me again?” he asked timidly.

 

Unable to say no, Chanyeol spooned around him once more and did exactly that, “You haven’t ruined anything,” he whispered, “but don't ever scare me like that again.” When there was no reply, he simply listened to the way Jongin’s breaths evened out as he fell asleep.

 

Chanyeol lay awake long after Jongin had fallen asleep, trying to process everything that had happened tonight, crying silent tears for the man in his arms, praying over and over that Jongin would somehow find a way through this, for both of their sakes-

 

Because truthfully, Chanyeol wasn't sure he could live without him.

 

*****

** Part Three: Retribution. **

****

*****

Despite having not felt up to going back to his classes yet, Jongin had still been doing his best to study and keep up with his modules thanks to his teachers generously emailing him most of the work he needed to do and Chanyeol dutifully collecting the rest of it to bring home after his own classes had finished.

 

It wasn't so bad – Jongin had always enjoyed studying – but it seemed that staying at home wasn't a cure all for the poison he’d been swallowing since that bastard broke up with him; students had now taken to sending him vile messages on his university email account – some of them people he didn't even know – it had gotten so bad he was even afraid to use the internet at all some days.

 

There were messages telling him what a slut he was, some said he should just drop out of school because nobody wanted him there anyway, a few people had taken to sending video re-enactments of him having his heart broken in such a humiliating way; a few emails had even had the words _kill yourself_ written on them.

 

It was all getting too much to stand all over again.

 

Since that night at the ballet, with his self-confidence at an all time low now that Chanyeol had seen his secret way of coping, - which they still hadn’t properly talked about simply because he’d kept avoiding the subject whenever Chanyeol brought it up - Jongin had kept applying his pale makeup almost every day like it was a damned religion to do it in the hope that it would make him feel at least a little better about himself, but as time went by all he felt was uglier and uglier.

 

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asked from behind him, being able to sense that something was wrong with him without even seeing his tear stained face.

 

Jongin didn't reply, merely turned his laptop so that Chanyeol could read through some of the messages he’d already read, jumping slightly at the angry sound that spilled from the redhead’s lips; it sounded almost like a growl.

 

“You don't need to see any of that shit.” Chanyeol told him, promptly deleting the entire inbox before all but slamming the laptop shut, “And they haven’t got a fucking clue what they’re talking about, anyway.” He sighed before speaking again, “Jongin ah, I know I haven’t mentioned it before but- is this why you’ve been wearing so much pale makeup lately?”

 

Jongin couldn't answer, didn't know what to say.

 

“You really don't need it.” Chanyeol said, “You’re gorgeous just as you are.”

 

Jongin looked at him then, surprised, “But before the ballet, you said I looked handsome-“

 

“Because you _are_ handsome.” Chanyeol interrupted, “But not because of white makeup Jongin, but because of _who you are_.”

 

Though Jongin wanted to believe him – more than anything did he want to see himself as something other than worthless and ugly – he just couldn't, but didn't resist when Chanyeol led him into the bathroom, where he sat him down on the toilet lid before finding out the cotton pads and makeup remover.

 

“See?” Chanyeol said as he carefully wiped the layers of face powder off his skin, “Much more beautiful this way.”

 

Heart giving an unexpectedly, Jongin smiled shyly, “Thanks.”

 

“Anytime.” Chanyeol told him, “Now come on, wrap up warm, because we’re going outside.”

 

Jongin frowned in confusion, “What on Earth for?”

 

“Star gazing!”

 

Jongin couldn't help but laugh at how excited his friend suddenly seemed, “Chanyeol it’s the end of October, it’ll be freezing!”

 

“Which is _why_ I said to wrap up warm.” Chanyeol said, rolling his eyes playfully, “C’mon it’ll be fun- we used to do it all the time when we were kids.”

 

In the end Jongin gave in, because Chanyeol’s excitement really was infectious. Some two hours later though, and Jongin was freezing, wrapped up in several layers of clothing, blankets _and_ Chanyeol’s arms, and empty flask of what had been hot chocolate between them; still, he couldn't deny that he’d enjoyed trying to remember what all the constellations were.

 

“They’re so beautiful.” Jongin said absently as he traced the outline of Cassiopeia with his fingertip, “It’s sad to think that the stars we’re looking at have probably been dead for years already.”

 

“And yet still they continue to light up our sky for decade after decade.” Chanyeol said, “Did I have a good idea then?”

 

Looking up at his friend as best he could from their position laid on the grass, Jongin nodded, and then frowned at the way Chanyeol looked down at him when he propped his head up on his hand, “What’re you doing?”

 

“Counting the stars in your eyes,” Chanyeol said simply as though it was the easiest thing in the world to do, “Because they’re just as beautiful, and very much alive.”

 

When their lips met a moment later – warmth in the icy cold around them – Jongin found that he couldn't pull away, merely pressed closer, kissed Chanyeol deeper that he’d ever imagined doing.

 

“We should probably go inside before we freeze to death out here.” Chanyeol said when he pulled away, ending their kiss as quickly as it had started, moving to stand up and gather their things.

 

It left Jongin feeling empty somehow, colder than he had been before and as though he’d done something wrong somehow. Was he not giving enough? Had they made a mistake?

 

Following Chanyeol inside, Jongin’s head was reeling with all the things he no longer understood. He had no idea what was going on between him and his best friend lately, “I’m sorry Jongin,” Chanyeol said when they headed into the living room to warm up, “I didn't mean to kiss you like-“

 

A startled yelp left the redhead’s lips when Jongin pushed him up against the nearest wall, angry and hurt about everything and nothing at the same time as he dropped to his knees at the same time as fumbling to pull down Chanyeol’s sweats with fingers made of ice.

 

“Jongin what’re you-“

 

“This is what you want, right?” Jongin asked, reaching out to curl his fingers into the other man’s hips, “My kiss wasn't enough- you want more?”

 

Chanyeol shook his head, concern bright in his eyes, “No, Jongin not like-“

 

“A whore, that’s what they tell me I am.” Jongin rambled with tears in his eyes again, “So won’t you let me service you? Be honest, that’s what you want.”

 

“ _No_.”

 

“Then what _do_ you want Chanyeol?” Jongin shouted, “Why do you keep doing things like tonight and calling me beautiful if a fucking blowjob isn’t what you’re after?”

 

“I just wanted to give you one night,” Chanyeol cried as he pushed Jongin away gently so that he could pull his sweats back up, “Just _one night_ where you didn't have to spend every hour of it thinking about those bastards or wanting to hurt yourself!”

 

“Why does it matter so much to you?” Jongin demanded as he stood up straight, not understanding how he’d managed to spoil another lovely evening; perhaps his insecurities were eating him alive.

 

“ _Because I’m in love with you Jongin!_ ” Chanyeol shouted, looking shocked by his own admission.

 

Jongin burst into tears then, sobbing when Chanyeol pulled him into his arms, “It’s okay Jongin, don't cry.” The redhead hushed, “I’m sorry, I never meant to tell you like that.”

 

Suddenly overwhelmed, Jongin pushed Chanyeol away for the first time since all this started, “I can’t- I can’t hear this right now I just-“ he rambled, taking several steps back and heading for the door.

 

“Jongin wait-“

 

“I’m sorry.” Was all Jongin said before fleeing the room and heading upstairs to shut himself in his bedroom, where he threw himself down onto his bed and cried so hard he feared he’d never stop.

 

 _Why the hell is this happening?_ He wondered, not knowing whether his heart was healing or breaking all over again, _Chanyeol can’t be in love with me- can he?_

Jongin didn't understand a damned thing anymore.

 

*****

A few days had passed since Chanyeol had blurted that he was in love with him, and Jongin was now back in class in a desperate attempt to get things back to normal, or more accurately, to avoid having to talk about what the fuck was happening between them and what they were going to do about it.

 

Unfortunately, just as expected, some students still weren’t able to stop harassing him, adding _fucking pussy_ to their list of insults thanks to him taking some time off; a few of them were still playing the damned video in class just because he was there; it was really starting to get old.

 

It hurt though, more than Jongin allowed himself to let on, especially because his parents still wouldn't have anything to do with him, choosing to break his heart in a different way to how Taemin crushed it rather than support him through the most difficult time in his life so far. He still couldn't quite believe that the one place he’d always felt the safest was now just another on a long list of places he could no longer show his face.

 

All Jongin had left was Chanyeol, and even then he wasn't sure their friendship was going to weather the storm of whatever it was that was changing between them. Shaking his head in the hope of ridding it of too many dizzying thoughts so he could concentrate on his class, Jongin made a renewed effort to ignore the harsh things people were whispering to him, or the way a couple of them still kicked the back of his seat and threw bits of paper at him.

 

Though Literature class was another of his favourites, Jongin still struggled to hide how upset he was already, trying desperately to just keep going and make notes on the lecture whilst the teacher talked to them about the story of Romeo and Juliet.

 

“If Romeo and Juliet had been written in today’s day and age, would the impact be the same as it was then- yes, Jongin.” She said, smiling when she saw his hand in the air almost immediately.

 

Taking a deep breath, Jongin spoke up bravely, “I think both the story and the reaction to it would be different now.” He said, ignoring the sniggering behind him, “The story would have more drama, more hurt, but the impact might not be as much of a headliner simply because people don't love like that anymore.”

 

“It’s nice of you to join us today Jongin,” the teacher said, “Can you expand your answer for us a little more perhaps?”

 

“Most people want to live happily ever after, but these days, instead of waiting for the one who can give them the kind of love that Romeo and Juliet shared, they seem to just settle for what will suffice for right now- people don't value each other enough and they don't take risks for one another,” Jongin paused, then continued when the teacher nodded encouragingly, “So I think if Romeo and Juliet was written today, it would be a story of teen pregnancy, cheating partner’s and running away from responsibility.”

 

“Well you’d know all about cheating partners, right Jongin?” a student from the back piped up.

 

“Enough.” The teacher scolded, then turned back to Jongin, “You made a good point Jongin, thank you.”

 

By the end of class, Jongin felt strangely accomplished, even more so when the teacher held him back just to tell him that she was pleased to see him taking part today and that she hoped his attendance would be picking back up again soon because he really could excel in her class; he left the room feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

 

It was nice.

 

Feeling a little more buoyant after a (mostly) successful class, Jongin decided to take advantage of the unexpectedly warm weather – considering it was almost November – and bought a sandwich from the cafeteria to eat outside at one of the benches he used to sit at before the bullying started.

 

“I love you, Yixing.”

 

A familiar voice speaking an unfamiliar name, Jongin stopped dead when he turned the corner to find Taemin almost exactly where he wanted to be, whispering words of love and kissing a man he’d never seen before in his life.

 

Emotion washing over him in waves – hurt at hearing Taemin speak those words to somebody else, anger at being hurt, and confusion over pretty much everything with Chanyeol – Jongin suddenly wasn't hungry anymore, and dumped his food in the trash before all but running home (thankful that Chanyeol didn't live too far despite having a car), feeling pathetic that Taemin could make his bravery evaporate to the point where he couldn't face his afternoon classes without so much as _looking_ at him.

 

“This feeling needs to stop.” Jongin said as he let himself into the house, dumping his stuff and heading straight into the kitchen for the bottles of soju that he’d never gotten around to drinking, pouring himself two shots, “Here’s to oblivion.” he smiled despite the fact that he was crying  _yet again,_ clinking the glasses together before downing both shots one after another.

 

 _Here’s to feeling nothing at all_ , Jongin thought as he poured himself several more shots.

 

*****

Sitting in Business Management, his last class of the day, Chanyeol was (yet again) finding it difficult to focus on what the teacher was saying, his mind full of nothing but Jongin and the fact that he still couldn't believed that of all times to choose to confess to him, Chanyeol had blurted it out in the middle of an argument.

 

Not the way he’d always imagined it to go, and Jongin had been avoiding that (as well as everything else) since.

 

On top of that, he was concerned because he’d had a text message from his best friend earlier, telling him not to worry about him but he’d gone home early because he wasn't feeling too great- of course all _that_ had done was make Chanyeol worry more.

 

“I still can’t believe it.” He heard somebody snigger behind him, “How one person could be that much of a slut is beyond me.”

 

Immediately annoyed, Chanyeol turned around to the source of the noise, and wasn't surprised when he found a couple of guys skipping through the video he had never wanted to destroy more in his life; it was annoyingly predictable.

 

“Do you realise what sick perverts you all look like,” he whispered as he leaned closer to them, “Keeping something so personal to go jerking it over in class of all places.”

 

“Why’re you being such a jerk?” one guy said, though he at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

 

Chanyeol smirked, “If you think I’m a jerk now, imagine what you’ll think I am if you insult my best friend just one more time.”

 

“Like you could do anything to us.” Another said, though he sounded more confident than he looked.

 

“Do you really want to push me and find out?”

 

They both paled a little then – which he felt rather smug about, considering what they’d been doing – putting their phones away and falling quiet.

 

“He needs better friends.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“I said we didn't know you were friends.”

 

Chanyeol fought the urge to roll his eyes as he turned back to the front of the class, “That’s what I thought you said.”

 

Unable to really concentrate after that, Chanyeol found himself doodling Hallowe’en chibi’s on his notebook, vaguely wondering if Jongin would feel well enough to go to the annual campus party tonight or if it would be better for them both to just stay in and watch scary movies or something together.

 

 _I’ll ask him when I get home,_ he thought, wondering how to make him feel better if he’d had a shitty day, _pizza- that’s always a win._

Relieved when class was finally over, Chanyeol quickly grabbed a homework sheet from the front desk – lying to the teacher when she asked if he was feeling alright and telling her he just had a heavy workload this semester – before rushing out of the room to avoid further questioning.

 

Calling into his and Jongin’s favourite union pizza place, Chanyeol picked up several spicy chicken supreme pizzas and a large bottle of cola before heading home, hoping that his junk food surprise would at least make Jongin smile for a moment or two.

 

Upon letting himself into the house a short time later and walking straight through into the kitchen, Chanyeol found himself stopping dead in the doorway when he discovered Jongin sprawled out on the floor, completely and utterly wasted, several empty soju bottles tipped onto their sides nearby told him that his best friend had been drinking the strong stuff, too.

 

“Hey ‘yeol.” Jongin slurred in his general direction from his position on the floor.

 

“Shit, Jongin.” He cursed, dumping the food on the counter and rushing to his side, “What’re you doing to yourself?”

 

The brunette shrugged, trying to appear more indifferent than the tear stains on his face suggested he actually was, “Drowning my sorrows…or myself.” He managed, laughing at himself drunkenly.

 

Heart breaking again for his beautiful friend, Chanyeol stood up, pulling Jongin to his feet with him, “This isn’t helping Jongin,” he said, at a loss as to how he was supposed to help, “You need to start dealing with things properly- just talk to me, please- I can help you.”

 

“’M fine.” Jongin insisted, swaying where he stood and looking suddenly pale.

 

Before Chanyeol could either argue that statement or ask what was wrong, Jongin promptly threw up…all over himself and all over him, “I can see that.” He muttered, nose wrinkling at the smell.

 

“I’m sorry…oh my God I’m so sorry!” Jongin rambled, sounding upset, “I didn't mean-“

 

“It’s nothing that won’t wash.” Chanyeol insisted, “Come on, shower for both of us I think.”

 

Getting Jongin showered and changed whilst he was drunk turned out to be a lot harder than it looked, but by the time the job was done – they (and the kitchen) were both mercifully vomit free – and he’d drunk several cups of coffee along with a good portion of pizza, he was at least a sober enough to be coherent.

 

Chanyeol figured it was a start.

 

“I can’t believe it’s the end of October already.” Jongin said out of the blue, “This year is going by so fast.”

 

Chanyeol nodded in agreement, “I was actually hoping you’d want to come to the campus party tonight, you usually go every year and it’d be a shame to miss it,” he felt guilty as soon as he spoke, as though he was pressuring Jongin somehow, “But it’s okay if you’re not feeling up to it.”

 

“How can I go without a costume anyway?” Jongin asked sadly, looking so lost and confused it hurt Chanyeol to witness.

 

“Already sorted,” he admitted sheepishly, “I picked you one up at the same time as mine just in case you decided to go but didn't feel up to party shopping. It’s upstairs.”

 

Jongin was quiet for a few moments; “I’ll go to the party with you.” He said eventually, surprising Chanyeol.

 

“Are you sure?” Chanyeol asked, not wanting to push him if he wasn't ready, “Are you even sober yet?”

 

Jongin shrugged, “Not really- but does it matter? It’s a party after all, and I’d like to go with you.” He smiled, a little brighter this time, “Who knows, maybe I’ll even have fun.”

 

Chanyeol smiled, admiring his friend’s spirit; “Well your drunken state will fit your costume, at any rate.”

 

“Why- what is it?”

 

“Captain Jack Sparrow.” Chanyeol said, pleased when Jongin’s face suddenly lit up.

 

“Okay, so that might sound a bit cool.” Jongin laughed, “What’re you going as?”

 

He actually felt shy as he admitted, “A Storm Trooper, complete with blaster.”

 

An hour later, and they were both on their way – it wasn't far in the car, and Chanyeol was obviously the designated driver – dressed up for the night and determined to have some fun, if the look he saw pass across Jongin’s face as they walked into the building was anything to go by.

 

Looking around, Chanyeol had to admit that – just like every other year – he was impressed by the set up. Everywhere he looked there were spiders, bats, skeletons and ghosts, pumpkins, witches and tombstones- even severed limbs were scattered around the place. There was a bar set up in the corner boasting drinks in all manner of weird colours, and Jongin was right there with a bright green one called _swamp slime_ , which Chanyeol soon discovered tasted like vodka and lime.

 

“Great turn out again.” Jongin commented as he pointed out the crowd of people all dressed up and ready to party.

 

There were characters from anime’s and cartoons, television and film heroes, comic book superheroes, pop stars and mascots among the usual suspects of witches, devils, zombies and of course- the playboy bunnies; it was impressive, the effort that had gone into some of the costumes.

 

“You want to dance?” Chanyeol asked after Jongin had finished his second – or third – drink, partly to get him to slow down with the alcohol, but mostly because they were there to have fun.

 

“Sure, I guess.”

 

Weaving their way through the crowed, Chanyeol pulled Jongin as close as he dared, moving their bodies in time to the music vibrating the floors and walls, “Are you feeling alright?” he asked, unable to stop himself, pleased when Jongin smiled.

 

“I’m actually having a pretty good time.”

 

“Good.” Chanyeol told him, pulling him as close as he could with the bulk of his costume, “I hate seeing you so sad all the time.”

 

Jongin frowned a little, “I know- I’m trying though.”

 

“I know you are just- don't rush yourself okay?” he asked, “Act happy when you  _feel_ happy.”

 

“I feel happy right now.”

 

“As well you should, because you actually make a pretty sexy pirate.” Chanyeol said, and was rewarded by Jongin’s infectious laugh.

 

“Mind if I cut in?” Taemin, who was apparently Dracula reincarnated, interrupted, though he pulled Jongin away and disappeared into the crowd before he could even try to stop him.

 

 _Nothing good can possibly come from this_ , Chanyeol thought, it never did anymore- because Taemin was poisonous.

 

*****

“I’m surprised you dared show your face here.” Taemin smirked as he pulled Jongin into a dance he couldn't escape from thanks to the gyrating bodies on all sides, “Even if it is covered in all that makeup- _adorable_ costume, by the way.”

 

“I see you’ve come as Dracula- a soulless monster,” Jongin shot back, trying to stand up for himself for once, “How fitting.”

 

Anger flashed in the dark of Taemin’s eyes, but Jongin spoke again before he could throw some clever retort back at him, “Now was there something you wanted?” he asked, “Because in case you hadn’t noticed- I’m here with Chanyeol.”

 

“Not from you Jongin, I thought I’d already told you that,” Taemin sneered, glancing over in the direction he’d pulled him from, “Ah, dear old Chanyeol- are you fucking him now, is that it?”

 

“Why is that the only thing you ever think about?”

 

Taemin carried on as though Jongin hadn’t spoken, “Maybe you have let him fuck you already, so don't be surprised if he doesn't want to do it again. Honestly I don't know how I stomached it for so long.”

 

“Is there a reason you’ve taken to being such a dick?” Jongin asked as they continued to dance together, swallowing the bubble of hurt now trying to block his airways. “Did your personality microchip malfunction or something?”

 

The laugh that spilled from Taemin’s lips was humourless and cold, “Look at you, trying to stand up for yourself- how cute.” He smiled, “I was just enquiring after your entire _lack_ of a love life, that’s all.”

 

“I don't know what I ever saw in you.” Jongin said, trying to pull away so he could go and find Chanyeol.

 

“Likewise.” Taemin spat, pulling him back to him, “You’re needy and clingy, all you ever do is whine.” Dark eyes raked him up and down, “You’re not the slimmest person around here, a nose job would be a definite improvement; as would a good peroxide to y’know… _lighten things up a bit._ ”

 

Jongin’s eyes burned with unshed tears, “You’re a bastard, Taemin.” He snapped, pulling away again, relieved when this time Taemin let him go, only for him to run into a group of guys who had clearly recognised him; or who his delightful ex-boyfriend had pointed him out to.

 

They laughed as he tried to get through, and he knew he was in trouble when he noticed Chanyeol being held back by another couple of them, too.

 

“You’re wearing the wrong costume, _whore_.” one guy shouted at him over the music, groping at him obscenely, “C’mon, beg for is like you did in your video.”

 

“Let me go!” Jongin cried, struggling when several of them grabbed him, pulling at his clothes.

 

“Not until you’re in the right costume!”

 

Though Jongin fought to be free of their clutches, there were simply too many of them, and all he could do was cry for them to stop as they stripped him completely naked, exposing both his body and the cuts it was covered in.

 

“Would you look at that, seems Frankenstein’s Monster likes to cut himself,” he heard Baekhyun’s voice chide as the group forced him onto his knees, “Do you want to die, is that it _whore?”_

“No- please, don't do this!” Jongin pleaded as they all but dragged him over to the large tub of water that was full of apples for people who wanted to have a game of apple bobbing.

 

They shoved his head under the water before he could even take a breath, and Jongin was terrified when they held him down and wouldn't let him up. Panicking as his lungs started to burn, Jongin really thought they were going to let him drown, until he was being suddenly pulled out of the water, coughing and crying, to see Chanyeol throwing punches at anybody within arms reach.

 

“Fucking come near him again and I’ll do more than punch you!” Chanyeol shouted, and they must have taken him seriously because his best friend was crouching down beside him, “It’s okay Jongin,” he said quietly when the brunette sobbed brokenly, “You’re okay.”

 

“T-take me home Chanyeol…p-please.” Jongin begged, unable to stand the humiliation of being stripped bare in front of everybody like that any longer.

 

“You’re clothes, I can’t find-“

 

“Just get me out of here.”

 

Nodding, Chanyeol pulled him into his arms and held him as best he could and carried him back to the car, Jongin keeping his burning face buried in his friend’s neck to hide from the shame of being naked.

 

“I don't have any spare clothes,” Chanyeol said as he got him settled in the car before climbing in himself and turned the heating up, “Even my gym gear is at home.”

 

Jongin smiled sadly, curling up in the seat to hide as much of himself as he could, “It’s okay.” He sniffled, shivering despite the warmth in the car, even though it was anything _but_ okay, “Home isn’t far.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Jongin.” Chanyeol apologised, sounding so guilty as he drove them home it made Jongin feel even lower, “I should never have taken you there. I just thought-“ he sighed, frustrated, “Never mind what I thought, I’m just sorry.”

 

Jongin didn't say anything, but still clung to Chanyeol tightly when they pulled up outside the house so that his friend could carry him inside where it was warm. Within minutes he was wrapped in a blanket and sat on his bed whilst Chanyeol ran him a bath, insisting that it would help him warm up and feel better.

 

“I even added your favourite bubbles.” Chanyeol told him as he led him into the bathroom after changing out of his costume into much more comfortable t-shirt and sweats.

 

Jongin managed a small smile as he removed the protective from his cuts to climb into the tub, “Thanks.”

 

“Yeah so- um,” Chanyeol started, looking suddenly unsure of himself, “I’ll leave you to it, just shout me if-“

 

“Stay with me?” Jongin asked, not wanting to be alone in his vulnerability for the first time.

 

Chanyeol nodded, seeming surprised, “Sure.” He said, taking on the task of shampooing his hair after Jongin had washed his face to rid it of what was left of his makeup.

 

“I don't know what I’d do without you, Chanyeol.” Jongin said quietly, “You’re like my Guardian Angel or something.”

 

Chanyeol laughed softly, “I’m hardly an Angel- but it’s better than being your fairy godmother I guess.”

 

Jongin looked up at his friend then, wondering how he always managed to make even the most crippling pain disappear, “Hey, no more tears.” Chanyeol told him softly, wiping away tears Jongin had even realised he was crying.

 

“Chanyeol…” Jongin whispered, but was pulling the redhead down into a kiss before he could even think what he wanted to say.

 

Jongin still didn't understand why this kept happening – though the answer was hidden in his heart somewhere – but right now he didn't want to think about it, couldn't bring himself to stop as he raised a bubble covered hand to grip Chanyeol’s nape to prevent him pulling away.

 

 _I have no idea what I’m doing_ Jongin thought as he kissed his best friend almost desperately, _but right now I don't want to stop._

*****

Chanyeol couldn't quite comprehend what was happening, but he knew he had to pull away before they both crossed a line that could irreparably damage their relationship; he only stopped when Jongin whimpered so helplessly at the loss that he couldn't keep from kissing him again.

 

Truly following his heart for the first time in his life, Chanyeol stood up properly, breaking their kiss only for a moment so that he could hold Jongin close against his body and lift him up out of the water- pleased when the brunette responded by wrapping his legs around his waist as securely as he could without hurting himself and pressed their mouths together in another kiss, this one far more heated than the last.

 

Allowing his internal map of the house, Chanyeol walked them blindly to his bedroom – he’d sort the tub out later – crossing to the bed and laying Jongin down gently, who then pulled him down on top of him, tongues touching and tasting as they kissed like they needed one another to breathe and stripped Chanyeol of his clothes so that there was nothing but bare skin between them.

 

Eventually, it was Chanyeol who had to pull away, “Jongin ah,” he breathed, “What’re we doing?”

 

“I don't know,” Jongin admitted, “But I know I don't want to stop.”

 

“You’re still drunk.” Chanyeol said, sitting up slightly, _you must be_.

 

Jongin shook his head, “I’m not…well…not really.” He said, looking suddenly small and rejected, “I thought you loved me.”

 

“I _do_!” Chanyeol told him, “More than anything but Jongin, this isn’t about my feelings for you, we _have_ to talk about this-“

 

“Not tonight, please.” Jongin pleaded, leaning up to kiss him again, quick and chaste, “If you love me,  _show me_. I’m asking you to love me so that I can _feel_ again, Chanyeol…please…make me beautiful.”

 

Heart lurching with a sudden rush of emotion, “You _are_ beautiful.” He told Jongin as he finally succumbed both to the strength of his own feelings and the desire that coursed through him like white fire at just _how good_ it felt to press himself between Jongin’s open thighs.

 

Pressing down and grinding their hips together, Chanyeol revelled in the breathy little whimpers of arousal spilling from Jongin’s plush lips as he kissed and nipped his way from the brunette’s sharp jawline, down his neck and onto his chest, pausing to lick and bite his nipples into stiff peaks before mapping a journey further down his body.

 

He only stopped when Jongin’s hands fisting in his hair prevented him from moving, “What is it?”

 

“My scars.” He almost whispered, flushing in embarrassment.

 

“Are a part of you,” Chanyeol told him, pausing to press several kisses to the criss-cross pattern of red and pink that spread across Jongin’s stomach, “And so are beautiful too.”

 

With tears in his eyes, Jongin nodded his consent, and so Chanyeol continued to kiss his way down Jongin’s wonderfully lithe, tan body until he was peppering them over the deeper wounds on each thigh. Despite the obvious tension in his thighs, Jongin was obviously aroused, his cock hard and flushed red against his abdomen, and when he was done worshiping his thighs, Chanyeol settled between his legs properly, licking a stripe from the swell of his balls to the leaking crown of his cock.

 

“ _Shit,_ that feels good.” Jongin moaned loudly, letting Chanyeol know just how sensitive he was.

 

Loving the sound that Jongin made – and wanting nothing more than to hear him again – Chanyeol decided to just be bold, and wrapped a firm hand around the base of the brunette’s cock, shifting his position slightly so that he could kiss at the head for a moment before splitting his lips around it and swallowing down as much of his cock as he could.

 

“Oh my God!” Jongin cried out at the unexpected onslaught of pleasure, hips jerking and fingers twisting back into his hair.

 

It took only moments for Chanyeol to be addicted to Jongin’s taste, the sound of his voice as he moaned his name over and over again as though he’d forgotten all other words. Not wanting their unpredicted coupling to be over too soon, Chanyeol pulled of Jongin’s rigid cock with an obscenely wet pop when he felt his friend’s body begin to tense up in pre-curser to orgasm.

 

“Don't stop- please…” Jongin begged, “Please don't stop.”

 

Smirking against Jongin’s skin, Chanyeol kissed his way back up the length of his body, until he could rest his weight between the brunette’s thighs and capture his lips – already open in a soundless moan – just to let him taste himself.

 

The more passionate their kisses became, the more tightly Jongin clung to him as though somehow trying to pull him into him into his own body; it made Chanyeol feel like the most important person in the world right then.

 

“All the way?” Chanyeol breathed against Jongin’s lips, kissing him again when he nodded, “You have to use your words baby, or it doesn't count.”

 

“All the way-“ Jongin almost squeaked, the skin flushed with arousal deepening in slight embarrassment, “All the way,” he repeated, bolder this time, “Please Chanyeol.”

 

Before replying, Chanyeol kissed first his forehead, then his nose before capturing his lips again, “As you wish.” He said then, before his brain could catch up with his heart and tell him not to cross this line because there would be no going back.

 

Chanyeol didn't want to go back- and he hoped Jongin wouldn't either.

 

Reaching into his bedside drawer, he retrieved a small bottle of lube and a condom, leaving the latter on the bed near the pillows before sitting up and back, squeezing the cool, thick substance onto several fingers liberally; the last thing he wanted to do was cause Jongin pain when he’d been hurt so much already.

 

Taking his time – wanting this experience to last as long as possible – Chanyeol eased his finger’s into Jongin’s body one at a time, stroking around the tightened ring of muscle until it finally yielded, allowing him in far enough stroke at the muscle wall as he searched out the most intimate places inside Jongin.

 

When Chanyeol had three fingers buried inside him to the second knuckle, he noticed the rapid rise and fall of Jongin’s chest as his breath came in shallow pants, “Relax, baby.” He soothed, stroking his cock with his free hand at the same time as teasing him open, satisfied when the brunette moaned loudly and breathed deeply.

 

“N-no more teasing or I’ll come…” Jongin cried, writhing on the bed as though unsure whether to push up into Chanyeol’s fist or down onto his teasing fingers, “Please…make love to me.”

 

Heart skipping at the soft command, Chanyeol complied – honestly he was near mindless with need now too – retrieving the condom and tearing open the packet with his teeth, he made to roll it down the length of his cock but stopped when Jongin sat up and reached for him, taking over the task and jerking him off at the same time.

 

“Damn you’re good with your hands.” Chanyeol praised, practically growling in satisfaction at just how good it felt to have Jongin touch him in such an intimate way.

 

“You’re so beautiful.” Chanyeol said when Jongin seemed shy again, kissing him softly and smiling when the brunette pulled him down on top of him, “You’re beautiful and I love you.”

 

Though it hurt that it seemed Jongin couldn't say it back – perhaps he didn't feel the way Chanyeol so wished he would – when he finally guided his cock into the velvet warmth of Jongin’s entrance, he stopped thinking altogether about anything other than making love to the gorgeous creature beneath him.

 

Their rhythm was slow at first, tentative and unsure, but then desire took control and urged them into a more brutal pace, their hips kissing again and again as Chanyeol gripped both of Jongin’s hands tightly, pressing them into the pillows as their lips met in an uncoordinated, open mouthed kiss.

 

Being hyper-aware of seemingly everything about Jongin though, it didn't take Chanyeol long to notice that his lover was in pain, his whimpers no longer being those of pleasure, “What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, worried he’d done something to hurt him.

 

“Thighs.” Jongin panted, “Feels like the cuts are burning…but I don't want to stop.” He added as though reading Chanyeol’s mind.

 

Of course Chanyeol did so anyway, pulling out carefully – heart squeezing at the desperate whimper that spilled from Jongin’s lips – and sitting back slightly, “This is supposed to make you feel good, too.”

 

Thinking fast so as not to shatter the spell he was sure they were under, Chanyeol laid down beside Jongin, on his back with his legs slightly apart, “Ride me, Jongin ah,” he said in explanation, “It’ll feel better this way.”

 

Though he looked momentarily nervous, Jongin did as he was asked, both of them moaning as he slid himself inch by agonizing inch onto Chanyeol’s cock; it was all the redhead could do not to shove up into him and take him all at once.

 

Chanyeol sat back up then, guiding Jongin’s legs to rest loosely around his hips before wrapping his arms around him, holding him close and secure as pushed up into him, loving the way it felt to be inside him.

 

The harder Chanyeol loved him – hands a constant movement on the sweat dampened, muted gold of his skin – the tighter Jongin clung to him, rolling his hips again and again in time to the redhead’s thrust in a way that felt so good it must be sinful.

 

“Chanyeol!” Jongin cried out suddenly, and it was all the warning he gave as he came unexpectedly between them, spilling hotly against Chanyeol’s stomach, tears rolling down his cheeks that Chanyeol immediately kissed away as he chased his own climax.

 

“Come for me.” Jongin whispered as he kissed him, deliberately tightening down on his cock and squeezing him so deliciously it had his own orgasm ruining him mere seconds later with a guttural moan and a shout of Jongin’s name.

 

Trembling, they both collapsed back onto the bed together, and as Chanyeol held Jongin close to him he wondered why after a while the other man’s heart rate was speeding up rather than slowing down until he was climbing out of bed looking almost wild with panic.

 

“Shit, shit, _shit_ ” Jongin cursed, scrambling away from him as fast as he could, “I can’t _believe_ I just- I’m such an idiot!”

 

“Jongin what is it,” Chanyeol asked, confused by the sudden change in mood, “What’s going on?”

 

Jongin look at him, eyes wide and full of tears, “I just- I can’t be here right now that’s all.”

 

He swore his heart fell right out of his chest as he watched Jongin throw on the nearest clothes he could find despite the fact that they weren’t even his, “Stop for a second Jongin, please-“ he pleaded, blinking back tears, “Where are you going to go at this time?”

 

“For a walk,” Jongin said, already on his way to the door, “I need some air- need to _think_.”

 

Terrified that he’d just ruined everything, Chanyeol wasn't above begging, “Jongin no, don't go… don't do this baby please- just talk to me.”

 

“I can’t- I just can’t do this Chanyeol,” Jongin said, turning back once, “I’m so sorry.”

 

With tears on his face Chanyeol watched then, as Jongin _literally_ ran out on him, leaving him naked in bed-

 

Wondering what the hell he’d done wrong.

 

*****

 

“Jongin where the hell have you been?” Chanyeol shouted when Jongin walked into the kitchen a little after eight thirty the next morning, to find the redhead dressed and ready for class.

 

Jongin shrugged, “Like I said, I went for a walk.”

 

“All fucking night? Jongin I was worried sick about you.” Chanyeol told him, “As if it wasn't bad enough that you walked out on me after we’d made love, but you don't answer any of my calls and leave me awake half the night wondering what the fuck I did wrong!”

 

It was rare that Chanyeol lost his temper, and Jongin knew his friend must be hurting, but he hadn’t been able to fight the urge to _run_ , “Did you want me to feel the way Taemin made _you_ feel- is that it?” Chanyeol asked, looking confused and lost in a way the brunette had never seen before.

 

“No of course not.” Jongin told him firmly, “I didn't set out to hurt you Chanyeol, you’re the only person who has stood by me through pretty much everything, but that doesn't change the fact that what happened between us was a-“

 

“Don’t.” Chanyeol interrupted, shaking his head and looking tearful, “Don't you dare tell me that it was a mistake Jongin, not when you _know_ how I feel about you- that’s not fair.”

 

“Then what would you have me say?”

 

“I just want you to _talk to me_ instead of running scared all the time.” Chanyeol told him desperately, “I understand that this is probably overwhelming and unexpected to you Jongin, but I _love_ you, so much.” A frustrated sigh, “Why can’t you just tell me how you _feel_?”

 

“Because I don't know how I feel!” Jongin all but screamed, his entire body trembling, “I don’t understand anything anymore Chanyeol…I can’t take it…I can’t…”

 

When the tears came Jongin didn't even try to fight them, simply stood there and cried, and even after a fight he was unable to push Chanyeol away when he rushed to his side to hold him tightly.

 

“Don't cry Jongin, please.” He begged, “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to push I just- I’m scared too.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Of losing you.”

 

The words were simple, direct and brutally honest; and they broke Jongin’s heart because he could almost _feel_ how much his best friend was hurting- how much pain _he_ had caused him.

 

 _I really am a monster_ he thought bitterly, _a monster and a whore._

Time passed without meaning as the two of them stood there in the kitchen, embracing one another so tightly it was as though each of them was afraid of being the first to let go- as though they feared that one of them really would disappear if they did. Eventually, it was Jongin who moved first, stepping back and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “You’re going to be late to class.”

 

Chanyeol shook his head, “I’ll call in sick so I can stay-“

 

“No, you have to go.” Jongin interrupted, “There’s no point in both of us failing.”

 

“Jongin, we  _need_ to talk about what’s happening between us.”

 

“And we will, tonight.” Jongin promised, “I’m all cried out right now, so I’ll be fine on my own for a few hours.”

 

He knew that Chanyeol was worried about him, knew that the last thing he wanted to do was leave him alone, but that was exactly what Jongin needed right now; to be alone.

 

“Bring pizza and chicken home with you.” He said, forcing a smile, “That’ll cheer me up.”

 

Chanyeol laughed softly because for as ridiculous as it may sound to some, it was true, “Alright, pizza and chicken for dinner it is.” He glanced at the clock and sighed, “I’d better go, but I’ll see you later.”

 

Before Jongin could move or even respond Chanyeol was taking his face in his hands and capturing his lips in a kiss that was full of passion but at the same time so soft Jongin knew in his secret heart he would never tire of, “Call me if you need anything and I’ll come straight home.” He told him, “I love you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead before heading to the door; he didn't wait for a response, because he knew Jongin didn't have one.

 

Not yet. Not this day.

 

Only when the front door was shut and locked did Jongin take the stairs two at a time to his own bedroom, not even making it to his bed before he was overcome by a landslide of emotion, collapsing to the floor in tears he was beyond sick of crying. He hated himself for what he had done, for giving in to his <i> _desires </i> _and hurting the one person in Jongin’s life who didn't deserve it; the wounded look on Chanyeol’s face last night when he’d gotten out of bed and told him he had to leave would haunt him forever.

 

Maybe he was just like Taemin, after all.

 

Maybe he deserved to feel as though he was being torn apart on the inside every single day, maybe he’d even deserved to have his heart broken in the first place. Curling in on himself, Jongin’s heart raced as his mind reeled, wondering what he was supposed to do to stop feeling this way, to stop being such a worthless piece of shit who caused the only person that cared for him so much pain.

 

Scratching absently at his thighs through his jeans, and a calm he’d never felt before settled over him when a thought occurred to him- a way for him to never have to feel this way again. It wasn't just calmness, he thought, it was _acceptance_.

 

Acceptance of the fact that he just didn't belong in this world- didn't _deserve_ to be a part of it, regardless as to the beauty Chanyeol insisted he saw in him every day. Chanyeol must be blind; Jongin decided sadly, either that or seeing the reflection of somebody else in his eyes, because there was no beauty in Jongin…not anymore.

 

Taemin had torn him apart, his parents had disowned him and his friends wanted nothing to do with him, and to top it all off when all Chanyeol had done was try to help him come out of the other side in one piece what had he done? Broken Chanyeol’s heart instead, though the redhead hadn’t said as much, it was written in the dark of his eyes that Jongin had lost himself in the night before.

 

He’d wanted to lose himself then, lose himself in Chanyeol were he could stay safe and hidden forever. He wanted to lose himself now, too- only this time there was no coming back.

 

Jongin would make sure of it.

 

Dragging himself to his feet, Jongin crossed the room to the drawer where he kept all of his notebooks and pens, retrieving a couple sheets of his favourite lavender coloured paper and a blue pen, sitting at the small desk to write the letter he’d never before though he’d have to send.

 

Reading back over his words when he was done, Jongin only wondered what the hell he was doing when he’d folded the paper neatly and left it on Chanyeol’s bedside table, waiting for him to return home from class. Acting impulsively, Jongin headed to the bathroom, stripping off his clothes quickly and all but throwing himself into the shower, hoping that the hot water would somehow help clear his head, help him think straight for long enough to change his mind, send him down a different path to the one he had chosen.

 

It didn't.

 

After his shower, without really knowing what compelled him, Jongin ended up in Chanyeol’s bedroom, glancing briefly at the letter waiting for his best friend before turning to the mirrored closet door, ashamed of his reflection but at the same time unable to look away, eyes roaming the almost nude form of his body as he stepped closer to the glass.

 

The world he was now forced to live in was too much to deal with, difficult and violent, and Jongin felt his body - his heart and soul – no longer belonged. Perhaps he never really had, he thought, wondering for the thousandth time what it was that he’d done that was so wrong that he deserved this.

 

“He’s not even attractive in the first place.” Jongin mumbled to his reflection, repeated the words aloud that had been hurled at him so many times now it caused him physical pain.

 

“Look how dark his skin is.” He whispered, turning away briefly to search the back of one of Chanyeol’s drawers until he retrieved the ivory face powder and large brush that his best friend had confiscated weeks ago in an effort to show Jongin that he didn't need to hide who he truly was.

 

Ignoring the fact that he’d just had a shower, Jongin set about applying the powder to his face, neck, even down his collarbones- anything to be seen as something other than what he’d become, “What a whore though, begging for it like a desperate slut and then showing it to the whole world.”

 

Poison came in many forms, Jongin knew that now, and their words had been like an arrow dipped in scorpion venom and shot straight into his already splintering heart.

 

Why would anyone want- “Why would anyone want you in the first place Jongin?” he asked his reflection, paler now, forced smile fixed in place.

 

Discarding his towel, Jongin spent a few moments absently scratching at the scabs and scars that adorned his thighs, his hips, and his stomach all the way to his navel; anywhere he could slice with a razor blade (paper clip, scissors, nail file) and then hide it. Sometimes, he struggled to remember exactly when it was that tears on his face had become blood on his thighs, but he figured it was somewhere between the decimation of his heart and the first punch to his face.

 

It wasn't as though it really mattered, anyway. Not anymore. After today, nothing would matter ever again. Pulling on the nearest loose shirt and briefs belonging to Chanyeol, finding more comfort than he expected in the familiar smell still clinging to the well-worn fibres; Jongin only wished it could somehow be enough.

 

Enough to change his mind- _save his life_.

Eventually, Jongin dragged himself back to the spare bedroom that he still couldn't quite believe his best friend had said to call his own, crawling beneath the sheets without bothering to dry his hair first; it wouldn't matter where he was going.

 

Sliding a hand beneath the pillow with tears on his face, useless streams of salt that streaked through his makeup to reveal fragments of the person he used to be, Jongin retrieved the secret that had been hidden there for far too long; the strong sleeping pills that Chanyeol didn't even know he’d been taking, and the razor blade that, after today, he would no longer need to turn to for comfort and release.

 

With tears on his face and his heart screaming at him in a desperate attempt to make him change his mind, Jongin swallowed as many of the pills in one go as he could – trying not to choke when they stuck in his throat – before using the razor blade to tear into the skin of his wrists for the very first time, dragging deep and biting his lip hard to keep from crying out because he deserved this pain.

 

He deserved to die.

 

With his mind quickly growing hazy and the sheets beneath him turning red and wet with his blood, Jongin simply lay down and covered himself up, curling his body into a foetal position and closed his eyes when he could no longer fight the dizziness.

 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered to the empty room, before closing his eyes and welcoming the darkness when it came for him, came to carry him away from here- came to carry him to death.

 

**_Please forgive me, but I don’t know what else to do other than say goodbye to you, Chanyeol._ **

**_I love you, and goodbye._ **

**_Jongin x_ **

 

**~*~**

 

** Part Four: Salvation. **

****

*****

 

Thanks to his second class of the day being cancelled last minute because the teacher had to go home sick, Chanyeol too was on his way home, deciding to call in on Jongin and see how he was doing at the same time as wondering why the hell he’d bothered to rush to class in the first place.

 

Keeping his promise of pizza and chicken – ignoring the fact that it wasn't even lunchtime yet – Chanyeol let himself into the house, wondering why he his stomach felt as though it was full of lead at the same time as churning uncomfortably.

 

“I’d better not be getting sick, too.” He muttered as he set the food down on the kitchen table before heading upstairs to Jongin’s room where, upon opening the door quietly, he saw the brunette fast asleep in bed.

 

It wasn't surprising really, considering he’d been awake all night. Smiling sadly, Chanyeol closed the door before heading into his own room to drop off the books he wasn't going to need for his afternoon classes. Frowning when he noticed a folded, lavender coloured piece of paper on his bedside table, Chanyeol opened what turned out to be a letter, his heart stopping and his blood running cold when he read through every neatly scrawled word.

 

**_Dear Chanyeol,_ **

**_I can’t believe I’m sitting here writing this, I don’t really even know what it is I want to say. My mind is so full that I can’t focus on any one thing, but I hope that you can understand this, the way you’ve always found a way to understand and accept everything else about me._ **

 

Dropping the letter and bolting back the way he came, Chanyeol barged into his best friend’s bedroom, pulling back the quilts he was wrapping in to tightly and barely keeping from throwing up at the sight that greeted him, an almost inhuman howl of despair tearing from his lips.

 

“No, no this can’t be happening,” Chanyeol rambled, tears already on his face, vision blurred as he took in Jongin’s pale, bloody form,

“Don't do this to me baby, please…” pressing his fingers to the brunette’s neck firmly, “Oh thank God.” He said when he felt a pulse, faint but definitely there; Jongin was still alive.

 

**_I honestly don't know what I would have done without you Chanyeol. These last few months have been nothing short of hell, and you’ve been there for me so much more than I could ever have asked you to be. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty as my best friend, and for that I will always be grateful._ **

 

Following sheer gut instinct, Chanyeol didn't even spare a second to call for an ambulance – what if Jongin died before they arrived – instead wrapping his fallen angel up in bloodied sheets, pocketing the pill bottle that was beside him and carrying him as fast as he could down the stairs and out to his car- not even bothering to lock his front door behind him.

 

The risk of having his things stolen was nothing in comparison to the risk of losing Jongin he was now faced with, “Hold on Jongin…fight this for me, please.” Chanyeol begged, kissing cold, chapped lips once before heading around to the drivers seat, climbing in and speeding off to the hospital as fast as he safely could; he was pretty sure he broke a few traffic laws, but couldn't bring himself to care right now.

 

**_Over and over again you tell me that I’m fine just the way I am. That I don't need to hide from my reflection, and I’ve tried so hard to believe that Chanyeol, to see myself the way you do. But I think the only way for me to not be ashamed of what I see when I look in the mirror, is if I no longer have a reflection. Does that sound weird to you?_ **

 

All but skidding into the nearest parking space close to the front of the local hospital, Chanyeol gathering Jongin up once more, holding him tightly against him as he ran into the main entrance, “SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!” he all but screamed, and suddenly there was a hive of activity around him as several members of staff rushed to help, taking Jongin from him and laying him on a gurney to take him straight into theatre.

 

“Here, I found this next to him,” Chanyeol told the nearest doctor, “I don't know how many he’s taken.”

 

“Thank you.” The middle aged man said, before rushing into the ER with a team of nurses surrounding Jongin.

 

**_I can’t do this anymore Chanyeol, I can’t. All I can think about every day is what he did to me; all I can hear is the voice that broke my heart mixing with the vile things that people who used to be my friends say to me. Even when you’re with me, after what I did to you, too, somewhere at the back of my mind is that feeling that reminds me just how worthless I really am. I can’t even say that it’s a nightmare, Chanyeol, because I’m already awake. It’s too painful, and I’m not strong enough. I wish I was- but I’m not. I’m not strong…I’m not anything anymore._ **

 

“Sir, I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait out here.” A nurse told him politely when he tried to follow, heart tearing in two at being separated from the man he loved.

 

“Will he make it?” he asked, though he was terrified of the answer.

 

“It’s too early to know for sure.” She said, and the solemn look on her face did nothing to calm Chanyeol’s fast growing panic, “I’m sorry.”

 

Left alone in the corridor, Chanyeol didn't know what to do with himself, kept pacing up and down, wanting to do _something_ because he couldn't just stay here like this- the waiting would drive him crazy.

 

It was then that he felt it. Anger. Thick and hot coiling in his stomach and spreading up his body until it wrapped around his chest and crushed his ribs into his heart and lungs, “Taemin.” he said aloud, already heading for the door still covered in Jongin’s blood; it was time to pay a that asshole a visit.

 

**_I’m so sorry Chanyeol. Sorry for everything. I wish I could have been a better friend (better everything) to you, a stronger person. But that was always you, not me- I’ve never been anything but weak. All I want now is for the pain to stop, can you understand? I’m tired, so tired I can’t even remember what it was like to feel anything other than exhausted. I just want to sleep. Sleep forever._ **

 

A creature of habit, Taemin was ridiculously easy to find, on campus making out with a blonde who Chanyeol assumed to be the man he’d cheated on Jongin with.

 

“Taemin!” Chanyeol shouted, watching the way the two of them jumped apart at the livid sound of his voice, “You disgusting piece of shit!”

 

“What the fuck?” Taemin asked, clearly shocked at being spoken to like that, “Chanyeol, why the hell are you covered in blood?”

 

Chanyeol could have choked him, “Oh this?” he said, pulling at his blood stained t-shirt, “ _This_ is _Jongin’s_ blood, I’ve just come from the hospital because he tried to _kill himself!_ ” he shouted, shoving Taemin hard in the chest when he made the mistake of standing up to face him, “Do you have _any idea_ what you’ve done?”

 

“Me?” Taemin gasped, still having the nerve to look shocked, “What did I ever do to him?”

 

 _Punch_. It landed against Taemin’s jaw before Chanyeol really even realised he’d thrown it.

 

“What the hell is going on here?” the blonde asked, looking shocked and honestly, a little afraid of the scene playing out before him.

 

“You don't know, do you?”

 

“Don't listen to him Yixing.” Taemin interrupted, “He’s a compulsive liar and-“

 

“Let me break this down for you really quick, _Yixing_ ,” Chanyeol started, noticing Taemin look worried for the first time, “Jongin was Taemin’s boyfriend until a few months ago, when Taemin decided to break things off on their _anniversary_ , by filming the two of them having sex and the emailing it _to everybody he could think of,_ including Jongin’s _parents_.”

 

“A few months,” Yixing turned to Taemin then, “Taemin you told me _he_ broke up with _you_ over a year ago- before I even moved here!”

 

“Oh and the lies just keep on coming.” Chanyeol laughed humourlessly, “Since then, Jongin’s been getting bullied so badly he’s been cutting himself-“

 

“I’ve heard enough of this bullshit.” Taemin snapped, turning to leave, “I’m out of here.”

 

“Karma works to no timeline, Taemin.” Chanyeol spoke lowly as he grabbed the other man to keep him from leaving, “And if I lose Jongin to this, I swear to all that is Holy I will hunt you down and I will _end_ you.”

 

“You wouldn't dare.” Taemin said, though Chanyeol saw the beginnings of fear in his eyes.

 

Chanyeol shoved him again then, this time so hard he lost his balance and fell heavily, landing in a heap on the floor in front of an increasingly large crowd, “Try me.” He said, “Until then, I hope you can live with yourself and what you’ve done, you sick son of a bitch.”

 

“You're welcome to him.” Chanyeol told Yixing simply before turning away to head home to pack up some of Jongin’s things that he might need whilst he was in hospital, hoping against hope that he would pull through this nightmare and actually _need_ them- Chanyeol didn't know what he’d do if he didn't.

 

 _Come back to me baby,_ he prayed silently, _I love you._

 

*****

The first thing Jongin registered as he came to, was the monotonous beeping somewhere to his left, the second was the searing pain in what felt like every part of his useless body.

 

 _This isn’t right_ , he thought, _I shouldn't be feeling anything at all- I’m dead_.

 

Or at least, he was supposed to be. Forcing his eyes open and squinting against the harsh bright light above him, Jongin quickly realised that he wasn't dead at all, and was in fact in a hospital; it broke his heart all over again, because apparently he couldn't even kill himself right.

 

He really was a failure.

 

Glancing around the room when his vision finally focused, Jongin’s eyes immediately fell to Chanyeol, who was hunched over the side of the bed and sleeping; so _that’s_ why he was alive, his best friend had apparently found him in time to save his life.

 

Or end it- depending on how you looked at it.

 

As though sensing that he was being watched, Chanyeol stirred and then looked up at him, blinking a couple of times before relief became the only thing written on his face, “Thank God you’re awake,” the redhead gushed, standing up and leaning over to press several kisses to his head in quick succession, “I thought I’d lost you for a moment there.”

 

“You saved me?” he asked, his suspicions being confirmed when the other man nodded, “Why would you do that?”

 

Chanyeol looked as shocked as he did hurt, “I can’t believe you’re asking me that Jongin- of _course_ I saved you!”

 

“But I wanted to die Chanyeol!” Jongin cried, tears streaming down his face as pain tore through his body, “ _Why couldn't you just let me die?_ ”

 

“Because _I love you,_ damn it- because not too long ago you begged me not to let you die, Jongin, don't you remember-“

 

“I just wanted the pain to end.” Jongin sobbed, “I don't deserve to live Chanyeol…I’m a monster…”

 

“Don't talk about yourself that way,” Chanyeol told him firmly, moving to sit beside him on the bed, “You’re not the one who deserves to be punished, Jongin, and you know that I’ve always thought you were beautiful and I will _always_ love you so please…don't hate me for not wanting to let you go. Heaven already has its Angels, so I’m keeping mine.”

 

Jongin sighed, allowing Chanyeol to hold him for a minute before he made himself pull away, “I think you’d better leave.”

 

“What- why?” Chanyeol asked, looking worried, “What did I do wrong now?”

 

“Nothing just- I’m exhausted and I need to rest…need to process the fact that I’m not dead and find a way to be okay with that.” Jongin told him, smiling sadly, “Come back to me when it’s time for me to come home.”

 

There was a hard tug at his heartstrings when he saw Chanyeol’s crestfallen expression at being told to leave, but the redhead simply nodded and stood up, moving away and pointing to a bag on the chair in the corner, “I brought you some of your things.” he said before heading to the door.

 

“Chanyeol-“

 

“Call me when you need me.” Chanyeol interrupted when he reached the door, though he didn't turn back to look at him, “I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

 

Jongin regretted sending him away the second he’d gone, _I need you_ , he whispered silently, _I need you to fix my broken pieces and make me whole again_.

 

*****

 

Several days later, when Jongin had been booked in to start seeing a counsellor when his wounds had healed better, and he was finally allowed to leave the hospital as Chanyeol had promised to take care of him and call immediately should his condition _deteriorate_ in any way.

 

During the time that had passed since he’d sent his best friend away, Jongin had felt guiltier by the minute, and had missed Chanyeol so much more than he had ever imagined being possible; he wasn't angry about being saved anymore, just ashamed of himself for trying to take his own life in the first place instead of talking to Chanyeol like he’d always been told he could.

 

Perhaps some day soon he would get the chance to at least _try_.

 

“Your parents found out about your accident.” Chanyeol told him as they drove home, breaking the awkward, mostly silent atmosphere that had settled between them, “They wanted to see you but I told them that you need space and some time to heal first.”

 

“Thank you.” Jongin said, smiling gratefully.

 

“No problem.”

 

Jongin sighed, “I hate this, Chanyeol, I hate this distance between us and I know it’s my-“

 

“What the _hell_ is _he_ doing here?” Chanyeol interrupted as they pulled into their driveway, voice thick with anger.

 

Climbing slowly out of the car, Jongin couldn't quite believe his eyes when they fell to Taemin, who was sat outside their house looking cold and if he wasn't mistaken- _miserable_.

 

“How dare you even show your face at my house?” Chanyeol snapped, shocking Jongin with his temper.

 

“Please, I don't want to cause any trouble.” Taemin said sincerely, throwing his hands up in surrender, “I just want to talk to Jongin-“

 

“Hell will freeze over first.”

 

“Just five minutes.”

 

“Don't make me repeat-“

 

“Chanyeol, stop.” Jongin interrupted before they could cause any more of a scene, “Let him in, it’s fine.”

 

Chanyeol looked nothing short of shocked, “After what he did to you?” he cried, outraged, “After what he made you do to  _yourself!”_

“I’m not asking for permission.” Jongin said bluntly before turning to Taemin, “Five minutes.”

 

Leading the way into the house, Chanyeol stormed straight through into the kitchen and slammed the door behind him, leaving Jongin alone with Taemin for the first time since he’d broken his heart.

 

“Jongin, I’m sorry, so fucking _sorry_.” Taemin said quickly, following him into the living room, “I never meant for things to go this far- had no _idea_ that you’d try to kill yourself because of it.”

 

“You waited in the freezing cold to tell me that you’re _sorry.”_

Taemin shook his head, “I came here to tell you that I still love you.”

 

Had he not already been sat down, Jongin would probably have fallen over, “You can’t be serious, what about the other guy- Yixing was it?”

 

“He left me when, after I found out you were in the hospital, I realised that I’m still in love with you.” Taemin told him, smiling a small, sad smile, “I want you back, Jongin.” He said, crouching before him and taking his hands, eyes glancing over the thick dressings wrapped around his wrists before locking with his, “I want to make things up to you- do it right this time.”

 

Jongin couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe that after all this time, Taemin was here telling him that he still wanted him, still _loved_ him-

 

And yet all Jongin could think about, was Chanyeol.

 

“Taemin?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You can’t just smile and make all this go away,” he said softly, “Wanting me back doesn't change what you did to me-“

 

“I’ll never behave that way again, I was a fool to let you go in the first place. I only acted like this because of  _how much_ I loved you and how afraid I was.“ Taemin told him, “ _You’re_ the one I want to make it with- nobody else.”

 

“I’m sorry Taemin,” Jongin said, feeling braver than he had in a long time, “But that just isn’t good enough for me, not anymore.”

 

“Why- because of _him_ , because of Chanyeol?” Taemin asked, standing up quickly.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why? Because he saved you- is that it?”

 

Jongin shook his head, a genuine smile on his face for the first time in what seemed like an age, “Because I love him, and your five minutes are up.”

 

Though Taemin was clearly angry, he didn't try to argue, merely muttered _whatever_ and left the house quickly, slamming the front door hard on his way out.

 

“Chanyeol!” Jongin shouted, not being at all surprised when his best friend came running, looking all kinds of worried.

 

“What is it, what’s wrong?” he asked quickly, “I heard the front door- what did he do to you?”

 

Jongin smiled at his concern, which seemed to confuse him further, “Why are you smiling- did the hospital drug you or something?”

 

Ignoring his question, Jongin stood up slowly so as not to go dizzy, crossing the room until he was close enough to Chanyeol to take his hands and hold them tightly.

 

“Tell me you love me.” Jongin said, repeating words he’d said before, on a night that seemed like a lifetime ago now.

 

“I love you.” Chanyeol told him without hesitation, “You know that Jongin, no matter what happens- I’ll _always_ love you.”

 

“Park Chanyeol,” he started quietly, finally setting his heart free to fly to where it would and taking that leap of faith as he pushed up into a kiss that felt like their first one, “I love you, too.”

 

When Jongin pulled away, there were tears in Chanyeol’s eyes that were full of sudden understanding; his feelings were no longer unrequited, truthfully they hadn’t been for a while, and when Chanyeol simply pulled him back into another kiss that spoke of so much love they could rival Shakespeare’s sonnets, in that moment, after everything he’d been through-

 

Jongin was happy to be alive.

 

**~*~**

“You want to tell me what’s going on in that overcrowded brain of yours?” Chanyeol asked, pressing a kiss to his temple, proving yet again that he seemed to notice every single thing about him, which of course Jongin secretly loved.

 

It had been a year since the day Jongin had been discharged from the hospital after having tried to take his own life, a year to the day since he’d let go of Taemin so that he could finally take the risk of showing just how hard he’d been falling for his best friend; his best friend whom he hadn’t even realised he was falling in love with until he was already overflowing with it.

 

It had taken a good long while, but he’d gotten there in the end.

 

As such, today was their anniversary, and Chanyeol had taken him shopping in town – despite having already given him the beautiful gift of a locket with a photograph of them both inside it – and bought him dinner in the evening at a very nice Spanish restaurant after insisting that it was one of the only days of the year he couldn't complain about him ‘spoiling’ him.

 

The food had been wonderful, but still only about half as good as the lovemaking they’d shared (twice) after coming home, which was what had led them to the here and now, laid in post coital bliss with Chanyeol propped up on his side with one hand, stroking gentle fingertips of the other had down the length of Jongin’s front simply because he could.

 

“I think you must be a mind reader.” Jongin smiled, looking up at his boyfriend.

 

“Not at all.” Chanyeol said, kissing him again, “You see to be a mind reader I’d _know_ what you were thinking, instead of having to ask all the time.”

 

Knowing that Chanyeol wouldn't let it go because he never did, Jongin decided to just be honest, “My scars are fading,” he said quietly, glancing back down at his body, “And I’m ashamed to say that I feel lost without them- like a part of me is missing, somehow.”

 

Kissing him soft and slow, Chanyeol then brushed the dampened hair of his fringe off his face, “You’re healing, baby, and I’m probably never going to understand the way that makes you feel but-“ he paused to splay a hand over the faded lines on Jongin’s lower stomach, “I _do_ know that with or without your scars, you’re beautiful, and you’ll never be lost Jongin- not really…because I’ll always find you.”

 

Chanyeol’s wonderful way with words had Jongin moved to tears, “I love you.” Was all he could think to say, pulling his boyfriend into another kiss that had him smiling against his lips.

 

“Marry me?” Chanyeol blurted when they separated, and Jongin swore his heart momentarily stopped, wondering if he was hearing things or _did Chanyeol just ask him to marry him?_

“Did- did you mean to say that?” Jongin asked, afraid to hope when he saw the shocked look on his boyfriend’s face.

 

“No!” he cried, then must have noticed the way Jongin’s face fell because he spoke again before the brunette could say anything, “I mean yes, I did, but not like this.” He rambled, obviously nervous and flustered, “I was going to do it properly- much more smoothly but yes Jongin…I meant it.”

 

“Chanyeol I-“ Jongin started as he too sat up, but his boyfriend was climbing out of bed before he could really think what he wanted to say, crossing the room to their closet – they shared a room now – returning a moment later with a small black box.

 

Climbing back under the quilts in what Jongin presumed to be an attempt to look more modest, Chanyeol then opened the box to reveal a white gold ring with a single, small diamond set in the centre of it, partially hidden inside the band; it was the most beautiful thing Jongin had ever seen.

 

“So, Kim Jongin,” Chanyeol said, “Will you marry me?”

 

So many emotions swept over Jongin at once that he couldn't even single one out, though he wasn't surprised to realise that he was crying, “I never in a million years saw this coming but- yes Park Chanyeol, I would love to marry you.” He gushed, all but throwing himself into a passionate kiss that had them both laughing when they separated.

 

“And <i> _I </i>_, love you.” Chanyeol smiled, carefully sliding the ring onto its rightful place of Jongin’s left hand, and the brunette immediately couldn't stop looking at it because <i> _he was actually engaged! </i>_

“I love you too, so much.” Jongin said, kissing his new fiancé, “I can’t believe you proposed to me stark naked just after we’d had sex!”

 

“Well it wasn't exactly planned this way but at least it has a special Chanyeol originality to it.” Chanyeol laughed, then looked suddenly more serious, “I just wanted today to be special, y’know…especially after what happened on the last anniversary you had.”

 

Though the memory of Taemin’s cruelty made his chest ache sometimes when he caught himself thinking about it every now and then, Jongin knew now that his heart – his whole heart, even the piece he thought he’d lost forever – belonged to Chanyeol now, and he had never felt happier than he did now.

 

“It’s been perfect Chanyeol,” he assured him, “Thank you.”

 

The curve to the other man’s lips was suddenly a mischievous one, “Not quite.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, you do know how pretty much <i> _all </i> _couples celebrate getting engaged, right?” Chanyeol asked, then before Jongin could say anything his lover pulled him back down into the bed properly, causing him to let out a rather undignified squeal before being kissed into silence.

 

Jongin could feel the swell of Chanyeol’s arousal pressing at his hip already and couldn't help but laugh, “In that case…I think you’d better make the night perfect then.” He said, losing himself in his fiancé’s next kiss, feeling truly treasured and beautiful for the very first time.

 

Love could feel like a battlefield sometimes, Jongin understood that better than anybody else he knew, and there were always going to be casualties in war, but tonight he could go to sleep, safe in the knowledge that he no longer had to be one of them, because in Chanyeol, he had finally found the one thing he’d always wanted-

 

Somebody he could love completely, and who truly loved him, too.

 

**~*~**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please be sure to leave comments on here or on our LJ mirror!


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